


winter's tale

by geniewish



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Blood, Historical Fantasy, M/M, Magic, Medieval Fantasy, Polyamory, Violence, Werewolves, Wolfpup, humans vs werewolves basically, hyungwon is lawful good, showho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2019-10-14 18:31:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 60,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17513738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geniewish/pseuds/geniewish
Summary: in the curséd land of ice and snow,where the horrid kings reign low,for whom the hunters strain their bows,when the ruthless blizzard blows,there lies a cabin in the woods.a boy survives on hunted goods,cowe'ed under his ancestral rootsand dreaming of—deathly disputes.a tale of two strayed souls that find shelter under a little swallow's fragile wings. a tale of one brave boy that loses his home to unsheathe his sword of glass and snow.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is the promised woof woofs fic as i referred to it on twt!!
> 
> important side note: the characters live in a fictional country and use fictional language that i borrowed from j r r tolkien and g r r martin, so all the vocab belongs to them, however i did take the courtesy to make up my own names. i will put trans at the end of chaps but i try to make it clear what the characters refer to using their languages uwu
> 
> hope you enjoy!

_Keep running._

The white haze is all his eyes can see. The blizzard is sharp, shrill, piercing under his skin, ripping out the hairs with their roots, like a butcher plucking dainty feathers from a naked goose. The snowstorm shrieks, sending him into terror as it wails into his ears. These are not snowflakes that he likes collecting with his tongue on a sunny day; this is hail, broken pieces of ice twisting and twirling in the wind, drying his eyes like sand and running into his airways. The ground under his toes is needles, cutting, and with every push of the blizzard it gets harder to move forward, to escape from the fonak’s call, the deadly shout carried in the storm. The fonaki.

_Just keep running._

The hunters are merciless and savage, they whip their dogs carrying their sleigh and shout their gruesome words into the wind, scaring him and chasing him. They are thick-skinned, they do not tremble in the face of winter, even if the ice draws thin red lines on their distorted faces. He runs, through the storm and across the endless white desert, but with every breath he takes he is weaker. The cold chains up his lungs, makes them heavy, like stones against his chest. He wheezes, and the wind echoes his pain in screeching laughter.

_We have to keep running._

They jump along the rocky plain, sharp gravel digging into his feet and ice tripping him. He claws the ground, tries to hold on. He cannot stop, even if ice bounds his chest, even if he has been running for as long as he can remember. A whistle passes by his ears, and he sees an arrow piercing through the snowy fog like a fallen bird. They start to attack, the hunters, they strain their bows and shoot into the night, hungry for blood. But the stone arrowhead doesn’t slide along his skin, doesn’t hurt him. It wounds Changkyun.

_Please. Run._

The arrow penetrates through his shoulder, making him cry out in agony, but he keeps on running. Blood splashes onto the crystal snow. His legs falter, barely hold his weight, weaken under the surge of pain, but the rush of fury sharpens his sense of danger. The hunters, they are behind. Their dogs bark as they sniff the blood, and the fonak calls again, commands them to be faster, to trap them, to hurt them over and over. They race under the icy clouds that surround them in the dead of the night, but the white dissipates with every step they take across the plain. There is a forest in the distance.

_Please, just keep running. Do not stop. Never stop running._

He hears Changkyun wheeze and pant, his front leg twists, he will not hold on for long. Another arrow lands right next to his feet, stabbing the ground and cracking in half. The wind carries another chasing shout. It’s far. The fonaki cannot slide safely on the rocks, and he pushes himself beyond the limits, runs, further from danger, further from death.

_Please._

The tall woods cast shadows, and they hide in the darkness, among aged barks and brittle branches. The fonak’s call is lost in the blizzard that is now behind them. But they keep on running, scratching their shoulders on the thick woods, raising the snow under their feet, two grunting creatures escaping in the night. The forest is black, vast, and Changkyun is close to giving up, when a little light appears in his vision, a faint flicker of ephemeral flames in the distance. On a little meadow in front of them, the snow glows, almost magically. It’s peaceful.

He drops on the ground where the shadows of the woods meet the moonlight, and the snow sinks into his fur, numbing the ache that comes with cracking of the bones and teeth tearing the bleeding gums. He scrapes the ground, buries the retrieving claws into the hard soil, not allowing himself to scream at the elongated knuckles and flattening chest. His shoulders snap, and he is turned on his back by the force that is beyond his control. His muzzle shortens, and his skull grows, and like needles through the skin, the hair retrieves into his body, leaving his bare form on the ground. He pants, breathing out the cold of the passed blizzard, and a little foggy cloud forms above his face. It’s quiet until the other whines.

Changkyun rolls on the ground, stuck in an indefinite form, whimpering as his lungs shrink but his ribcage impales through the skin like spikes. The wounded shoulder smears blood on the snow. And he whimpers, wheezes, clutches his chest with crooked hands, trapped in an endless state of agony. He cannot do it when he is injured, he cannot change around the arrow in his flesh.

He shudders as the other’s painful cries reach his ears, too loud for such spotless silence, too on the surface. He can’t hear him. Minhyuk, Minhyuk in the man body, Minhyuk can’t hear Changkyun. He is stiff, cold, weak, his mouth chatters and his hands tremble, but he crawls to Changkyun, to his tortured form.

“K-kyun,” he rasps as his dry throat closes up and his teeth grit, and the other whines louder, shuddering breaths shaking him as he opens his jaws and howls. Minhyuk squeezes his hand in between the sharp teeth. “Please, don’t cry,” he whispers, free palm on Changkyun’s head, “don’t cry, child.” A tear slips down his own hollow cheek as Changkyun whimpers in pain, his back legs kicking.

Minhyuk shakes, wraps both hands around the other’s jaws to keep them closed. They cannot be heard. They are heard, and they are dead. But Changkyun cannot reform, the arrow dividing his flesh, bleeding him out. Minhyuk grabs the wooden stick with his teeth and pulls, clasping Changkyun’s mouth harder as cries settle in his throat. He wrenches the goddamn arrow, feels as it cuts the flesh on its way out of his body, more blood streaming on the snow. But the wood snaps, the stone arrowhead grazes the surface of the open wound, and Minhyuk spits splinters out of his mouth, but it is enough, it should be. Changkyun groans and twists, but Minhyuk’s hold on his jaws is tight.

“Please, Kyun, don’t make a sound,” he whispers desperately and sniffs as the other’s bones crack. Human eyes squeeze shut, and Minhyuk knows Changkyun can endure it, feels now thin lips and little teeth press to his palm in a silent sob. He takes his tremoring hand to the back of the round head, hastily brushes through the dry hair to the bloodied back, avoiding the spiking spine bones that retrieve under the skin belatedly. Changkyun trembles, and a dirty small hand tightly grabs around Minhyuk’s wrist.

A rustle behind him makes him jerk and abruptly turn around. The dark woods cast shadow over a big towering figure. Terror runs down Minhyuk’s body, his vision blurs with tears, but he growls quietly, crouching in front of Changkyun’s bare body on the ground. A torch in a human’s gloved hand illuminates them in threatening orange light. Minhyuk growls louder, his black eyes wide and unwavering in front of the enemy. Then flame’s reflection runs over the human’s face, his gentle boyish features, big brown eyes that look at them with something similar to worry, and Minhyuk resorts to quiet snarling. The man does not feel like a fonak.

“I won’t hurt you,” is what he softly says in his language and takes a step towards them, but Minhyuk puts his hands on the ground and gets into a defensive position, snarl growing louder. He hates the White tongue with the same burning fury he hates the mankind. The weak and corrupted adanath.

The man crouches and leaves the torch on the ground. “ _Please_ ,” he says again, and Minhyuk’s ears twitch at the familiar sounds, at the hard twist of the tongue that is so inherent to _their_ language, to Lekhver. Humans do not speak it.

“You speak our tongue,” Minhyuk gravely whispers. Changkyun finally halts, breathing hard and trembling, and the man’s eyes trace his shuddering bare legs with a concerned frown. If only Minhyuk could hear, he would know what the other sensed – he is not a fonak.

He smells of no blood.

“I will not hurt you. I want to help.” The human rolls the letters with knowledge, taking tiny steps towards the two. “Your friend is bleeding, I can help.”

Minhyuk faced hunters before, enough of them to know their tanned, thick-skinned grimaces, their narrow sharp eyes, their dirty, wolf-made parkas. They wear _their_ kind on their skin. But the man – boy – reflects the snowy glow, his face is clean. His eyes are big and glisten with something almost caring, as much as Minhyuk sees care in the eyes of men. Never has he heard a human speak Lekhver.

The boy extinguishes the torch with snow, as if he knows the wolves fear the enemy’s fire. “My name is Hyungwon. I want to help.” And although he speaks simply, the mother tongue makes Minhyuk drop the defence, but he doesn’t hurry scrambling on his feet. The human rises just a little bit, takes his coat off, remaining in a light tunic. He exhales shakily immediately, the piercing cold sliding down his skin, he crinkles his face and extends the fur-made parka to Minhyuk. It smells like rabbits.

Minhyuk looks up from below, black eyes glistening with distrust, but Changkyun whimpers behind him, and the boy whispers another ‘please’. “T-take it, your f-friend,” he opens his mouth involuntarily and releases an unsteady breath, white fog gathering in front of his face. His teeth chatter mercilessly, “will die, let-t, m-me, help.” He finishes with effort, and Minhyuk rips the piece of clothing out of his trembling hold. The human instantly brings his mittens-clad hands to his shoulders, rubbing them.

Minhyuk holds Changkyun carefully, puts him on his feet, wrapping one arm around his waist and throwing one sleeve of the coat over his injured shoulder. Changkyun whimpers with the inability to say anything else. They are both thin and trembling, covered in dirt and blood and ice, digging the snow-covered ground with their toes as the try to fit under the warm parka. Changkyun takes a step, but his legs grow weak and bend; they ran for miles on end, escaping from the otherwise inevitable death, living another day instead of becoming pretty fur for a coat and a slice of meat on the market exhibit. Who knows if they succeeded.

The boy – Hyungwon – rushes to his side. Minhyuk growls quietly, threateningly, he doesn’t trust the human, but the other puts his own hand on the small of Changkyun’s back and wraps his healthy arm around his shoulders. “My h-house is right th-there.” Hyungwon utters through his clattering teeth and takes a step out of the shadows, onto the glowing, snowy, little meadow. The sky here is a dark shade of purple, navy, grey, and thin dirty clouds cover the possible faraway stars. It’s peaceful. There is a stone-built house standing on the edge of the forest, with a stable attached to it. Orange gleam fills the window, and grey smoke ascends from the chimney. It smells like warmth and herbs even from the distance.

Leaving smudged traces on the snow, they manage to reach the heavy wooden door, and a stream of heat and smell of food blow into Minhyuk’s face immediately. Hyungwon sighs with relief. “There, let us carry him to my room.”

Minhyuk concentrates on the tasks, carefully listens to every shaky breath Changkyun releases to make sure he doesn’t disturb the wound, but the human’s house is intriguing and suspicious. Chairs decorated with fur covers, sharp pieces hidden in the corners, and plucked turkeys hanging off the hooks near the fireplace, ready to be cooked. It is a fonak’s home, it is a slaughterhouse, and one of them hunters is holding his Changkyun.

But they enter the boy’s bedroom, candles illuminating it from all sides, its wooden furniture, countless basins and bowls, strange talismans and totems hanging on the walls, mysterious plants growing in pots. Grunting, they carefully sit Changkyun on the hard bed, drop the parka off his shoulders. Hyungwon pants and looks over at Minhyuk, his bare form, dirty hands and feet, tangled long hair, distrustful black eyes, and shies away. “I will bring you clothes.” He leaves the bedroom in a hurry, and Minhyuk sits next to a silenced Changkyun. 

His wound seemed to stop bleeding furiously, but the sharp edges of the arrowhead disarray the open flesh, creating gruesome sight. Changkyun doesn’t flinch when Minhyuk’s fingertips trace his tanned shoulder bone, his limp arm, his spine. He is somehow fascinated by a peculiar amulet hanging over the head of the boy’s bed. Minhyuk leaves a lingering kiss on his nape, brushes through the long untidy hair, trying to get Changkyun out of his animal mind, but it isn’t working. He is stuck.

“Kyun, come back to me,” he whispers and gently cups the other’s cheeks, turning his head and making him look at Minhyuk with hazy glistening eyes. He endured pain, now he is oblivious to it.

The human boy enters the bedroom suddenly. “Here.” He puts a pile of clothes on the wolf’s lap and turns around. Minhyuk doesn’t like the boy and his abrupt gestures, despises the hunting spirit of his house, but pulls fur-lined breeches up his legs and a tunic over his head and covers Changkyun’s hips with the second pair.

“Heal him.” Minhyuk orders in a low stern voice, and the more he observes the human fiddle with the pots and boxes on the small wooden table, the less he trusts him.

“I have medicinal herbs here,” he explains nervously, as if sensing that Minhyuk’s on guard. “What is your name?” He asks and approaches the bed with a little bowl in hands. He has thin hands, delicate, and his skin is soft and radiates a pleasant golden glow. He is unlike all he hunters Minhyuk has seen before, he smells like grass and snow, and he wears rabbits, not wolves.

“Minhyuk.” He says shortly and looks up at the tall boy. He nods towards the other, gaze focused on the human’s big eyes and bitten lip and plush cheeks, so different to tanned bulging cheekbones of the fonaki that chase them. “He is Changkyun.”

Then the boy smiles, gently, with the corners of his mouth, and something similar to mirth ignites in his eyes. “You have human names?” 

Minhyuk resists the growl of irritation, gets up to let the boy treat the wounded shoulder, eyes unchangeably on his face. He doesn’t trust them humans, even if they look like fairies; they betray, they chase, they slaughter. 

Hyungwon settles behind Changkyun, and Minhyuk sits in front of him, trying to catch the attention of the black incomprehensible eyes, still fixed on the amulet. “This will make the pain go away.” The human says quietly and smears green paste around the wound, tender, careful, like he really does not wish to hurt the wolf. Changkyun doesn’t wince, doesn’t react in any way. He extends his healthy arm and tries to reach for the amulet, but it is not as close as it seems. Minhyuk turns his head, stretches his own hand towards the charm and swings it lightly. It sways from side to side, making Changkyun’s eyes glint.

“He needs to bite something,” the human shows his voice again, “can you bring the bread that is on the table?” He asks, and although his language grows a little unstable with more complicated commands, Minhyuk listens and follows. Fire in the chimney cracks, spreading warmth along the stone walls of the house. There is food on the table. He takes a big loaf and sits in front of Changkyun again, bringing it to his mouth. “Split it in half first.” Hyungwon nudges and smiles slightly. Minhyuk does as ordered, and the golden crust crunches and crumbles, and the soft bread smells good. He cups Changkyun’s jaws, forces his mouth open and pushes a piece in, while Hyungwon takes thin copper pincers. Minhyuk grunts.

“Do not worry.” The boy nods to reassure and looks down with a frown, concentrating. He catches the edges of the arrowhead and gently tugs, making Changkyun flinch with his entire body. The hairs on his arms go up, and his eyes widen. Hyungwon exhales and pushes with all the strength he has, and Changkyun screams into the bread Minhyuk holds to his mouth, bites hard, and tears stream down his cheeks. They have seen what pain does to their kind, how it makes them mutilate themselves, how tortured animals bite their tongues off or scrape the skin off their bones. Minhyuk has a fleeting thought that the human boy cares a slight bit more than he believed mere minutes ago. 

Then Changkyun stops as abruptly as he started. Hyungwon breathes harder than usual, holding the pincers with the bloodied arrowhead trapped in them. Changkyun drops the piece of bread from his mouth and leans on Minhyuk, hiding his face in his neck, breathing in his familiar scent and the scent of someone else’s clothes. A thin stream of blood starts running out of the wound again. Hyungwon gathers a pile of thick linen bandages and soaks the remaining blood – not much was left after the chase. He drips a strong herbal liquid over the wound, making Changkyun hiss lightly, and wraps a generous layer of bandage over his shoulder. Changkyun is strong, inhumanly strong, and Minhyuk knows he will heal fast. He hopes the medicine the human put on his flesh wasn’t poison.

“You need to eat to heal quicker.” Hyungwon says and stands up. “I will warm up some food. Please, come.” It seems like the human means to say more, but the lack of knowledge of the foreign language leaves him short on words. Minhyuk doesn’t move immediately, hugs Changkyun close, carefully caresses his hot skin. He helps the other get up, pulls the breeches up his legs and decides to forget the tunic. Changkyun can’t raise his arms yet.

The human boy is sorting out food into two bowls, humming a folklore tune under his nose. Minhyuk is hesitant, doesn’t want to feel comfortable in the house full of hunting trophies, doesn’t like the musky smell of a man coming from a shirt he is wearing. But Hyungwon smiles slightly and gestures on two chairs in front of a big wooden table.

“Please, be my guest.” He puts the bowls down, and Minhyuk has nothing left to do other than sit down and inhale the sweet scent of roasted turkey. He loves birds, he is good at catching them, but he hates the way humans cook them, how they torture them in the process instead of killing them right away. They have no mercy, and the human boy is no different.

“I have eaten already, you can start. My family is away for another week – two weeks – I hope you do not mind, uh, that you stay here, I have food and medicine, I can shelter.” Hyungwon mumbles quickly and agitatedly cleans the table, and Minhyuk clutches a delicately made fork with growing anger.

“Why should I trust you, human?” He swallows down a growl and utters through the gritted teeth, eyes black and narrow, full of fury. Humans cannot shelter, humans lie and build traps, and even if a quiet tiny voice at the back of his head fights with him, tells him that the boy is different from the fonaki that hunt them down, he is deaf to any excuses when Changkyun, his dear heart, is wounded and pained.

Hyungwon drops a cloth on the table with sudden strength and looks at Minhyuk with something close to hurt and irritation, betrayal. “Why can you not be grateful?” He asks loudly with a sting in his voice. “I speak your language, I treated your wounds, I gave you clothes, I gave you food, what more do you need to prove that I will not hurt you? I am not a faron, I am a good man, I just want to help!” Hyungwon finishes and sighs, head hung low and fingers curling around the discarded cloth in despair.

Minhyuk’s ears twitch, the frown of his eyebrows relaxes, and his eyes take their initial shape. He feels a little apologetic, so he looks down at the bowl in front of him and takes a turkey leg with his hand, biting into cooked meat hungrily. They haven’t eaten in a while. The boy exhales with relief and goes to stand by the fireplace, to put more wood in.

“Fonaki.” Minhyuk whispers in between bites. Hyungwon’s head perks up. “Fonaki, this is what we call them.”

The boy smiles understandingly and nods. “They will not get you here.” He says softly and goes to warm up some water in a pitcher.

Changkyun hasn’t started on his food yet. Minhyuk looks at him, at his hunched back and lost face. The other bends down, as if to bite into the meat from the bowl, but Minhyuk stops him. “Kyun, no.” He whispers and takes his hand, putting a turkey leg into his palm. It will be tough, taking care of the other when he is injured, when he is still trapped within the animal inside him.

But he has hopes. Changkyun will recover quickly, they will be themselves again, and they will run away from the hunter’s house, back to their own home in the faraway mountains of Losdór.

 

Hyungwon smiles when he sees that his guests have finished their food. He cleans the table, Minhyuk’s gaze unchangeably fixed on his face. The wolves remain seated after he takes their empty bowls.

“He does not speak?” The human boy asks unsurely, giving unfocused limp Changkyun occasional quick glances to not seem rude.

“He can’t speak,” Minhyuk replies lowly, pressing warm palm to the other’s exposed back. He doesn’t trust the human, but it might save them some trouble if he explains, “he had a painful change,” he looks at the other boy, eyes immediately softened and glinting with care, “he hasn’t gotten out of the other body completely.”

Hyungwon understands and nods, unconsciously mouthing words he has never used before. “I will make sure he heals fast.” He smiles, moving his eyes back to Minhyuk. “I made hot water, you should clean your faces.” He gestures over his own features and rubs his hands, and a corner of Minhyuk’s mouth twitches upwards for a very brief moment.

“Prepared.”

The human boy feels heat flowing to his cheeks. “Prepared.” He turns away and cleans bowls of vegetable remains, forced to keep his head low because of the short fireplace sill. Orange flames paint his skin in a warm glow, reflect in his big brown eyes, dance in his clean black hair. He is thin, delicate – shadows form in the round hunched bones at the back of his neck, and the light white tunic folds at his shoulder blades, and the thick wool breeches are held with a cord that is probably used for other purposes. Minhyuk sees how this human boy is different, how he moves a chair over to the fireplace with one fragile hand quietly, how he smiles at Changkyun and gestures for him to come sit next to him.

Hyungwon dips a cloth into the pitcher with warm water, squeezes the fabric and makes sure it isn’t too hot, gently brushes Changkyun’s dry tangled hair out of his face, slowly touches his cheek and cleans a smudge of dirt on it. He slides along the crooked nose bridge and strong jawline, wipes in the small space between the sharp rounded lids and thick straight eyebrows. Changkyun doesn’t move unnecessarily, sits still, eyes the boy’s careful movements. Hyungwon seems a little afraid, like a mute injured wolf can hurt him out of nowhere. The human rubs Changkyun’s hands, slides along the thin fingers, noting broken nails and thin red scratches. He quietly gets up and walks around, crouches behind the other, scrubs the blood traces off his back, cautious not to pull at the skin too much.

“You need sleep.” Hyungwon says as he stands up and wets the cloth again, this time from a different side. Minhyuk approaches them silently, doesn’t find it essential to explain anything, lets his fingers into Changkyun’s hair, massaging the scalp and ruffling the already messy locks. The other leans into the touch. He brings him to the bedroom, makes sure Changkyun lies on his healthy shoulder, covers him with a thin blanket, throwing the detested fur hide on the floor. Humans need warm covers to survive this eternal winter, their vulnerable naked bodies cannot withstand the power of nature, and Minhyuk despises them for their weaknesses, for their inherent desire to kill.

Changkyun curls into himself and releases a little whine, unhappy with the cold. All the warmth is left by the fireplace. Minhyuk smiles to himself, leaves a lingering kiss on the other’s forehead and whispers, “I’ll be back.”

Minhyuk returns to the kitchen. Hyungwon is leaning against the sill of the fireplace, face seemingly deep in thought, lower lip between his teeth and eyes fixed on nothing in particular. He is so close to the fire it would take nothing to swallow him whole, like the flame can catch on his thin clothes with its burning fingers and make him vanish in a blink of an eye. He jerks when he hears his guest approach him but smiles a second later. Minhyuk sits on the low wooden chair, looks down at his hands. There is dirt under and around his nails, black smudges run down his palm to his wrist, and little symmetrical round dots decorate his knuckles where Changkyun bit his hand in the woods, in the moment of unimaginable agony.

The human boy works his way along his palm slowly, wipes each finger separately, presses the warm cloth to his scratches with care. They are close, Hyungwon sits on the edge of his own chair, and his sharp knees get into Minhyuk’s vision. When the wetness touches his cheek, he raises his head to look at the human in front. He lets him clean his face, his protruding cheekbones and his chapped lips, lets him hide a strand of hair behind his ear and gently wipe over his eyebrow scar. There is something calm in Hyungwon’s eyes, something tender. Fire paints one half of his face in orange, highlights the round tip of his nose, plays in the cracks of his plump bottom lip. They are very full. Minhyuk has never seen a man have such full lips, he didn’t know men could have soft skin and gentle hands. He’s been living in his pack his entire life, and although he’s studied humans before, the only ones he’s ever gotten close to were the gruesome fonaki that attacked them with their spears and arrows, that shouted in their thunder-like White tongues, that looked at them like predators hungry for their prey. Hyungwon looks at them like they are equal, and Minhyuk lets him touch the tip of his nose.

“Done.” The boy smiles but doesn’t stand up, observes Minhyuk’s face with shining eyes.

“Why are you helping us?” He asks, and for the first time, his intention is not to be rude.

Hyungwon fiddles with his fingers on his lap, curves his eyebrows as he thinks of the right words in the language that is not his own. “I heard you outside. I thought it was a wounded animal, a bear, or a wolf, and I went to see. But it was you,” he breathed out a little laugh, realising that his guess was not much wrong. “I was always… interested. Curious? Curious about the gaurhoth kind.” Minhyuk’s ears twitch at the unpleasant word in the White tongue, but he lets the human continue. “I do not like what humans do with you.” He mutters quietly and shrugs. “Life is… bad?” Hyungwon frowns in a silent plea for help.

“Cruel?” Minhyuk suggests calmly, and he feels how the hot fire melts his exhausted body, how the smell of wood and herbs and roasted meat he ate before steadies his mind, how the human’s simple wolf-tongue brings him back home to the mountains in the faraway lands of Losdór.

“Cruel!” Hyungwon straightens his back and widens his eyes excitedly as he remembers the word, but hunches again immediately, down with the thoughts. “Life is cruel, but we do not have to kill wolves to survive.” He sighs and puts the cloth on the sill. Minhyuk takes it as cue to get up.

“I will sleep next to Changkyun.” A sudden sense of manners hits him, and he looks down, realising that he didn’t even ask if he could sleep in the human boy’s bed. Back home they all have a lot of space to lie down.

“Of course, I will sleep in my father’s room.” Hyungwon is quick to reassure before Minhyuk even manages to open his mouth, and he looks up to the boy’s waving hands and a light blush on his cheeks.

“Thank you.” Minhyuk says quietly and hurries to leave. It’s the first time he feels grateful to a human, and he hopes to never experience this feeling again, to never throw a kind word at a man.

He comes back to the bedroom to see Changkyun hidden under the blanket, a lump of his body breathing a little shakily. So he takes off the clothes and climbs over, lies on the side closer to the wall, scrambles under the cover. Changkyun is cold, colder than his normal temperature, and Minhyuk hugs him from behind, tightly-tightly, chest to back, watching the other relax into the inhuman heat radiating from his body. He reaches to hold Changkyun’s fists, covers them with his palm while his other hand sneaks under his neck. Minhyuk fits his legs between Changkyun’s, and the other’s cold feet press against his. He stops shaking, the goose skin on his arms flattens out under Minhyuk’s familiar warm caresses. He vaguely hears the human boy throw more wood into the fireplace and then quietly walk away, probably into another bedroom.

And like this, kissing his nape and his wounded shoulder and his curled spine, Minhyuk makes sure Changkyun falls asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

What Minhyuk learns about the human boy after he wakes the next morning from immense hunger, is that he sleeps until the sun is high up above their heads. Minhyuk sniffs around, checks the food storage, listens to huffing horses in the stable, growls at the collection of sharp spikes in the corner of the house and a big bear hide on the floor in the room he hasn’t been to before. There are two beds, and it smells like men and meat and earth, and Minhyuk involuntarily gets on guard after the calming scent of herbs relaxed his mind for the night. He hears the human boy snore across the wall, hears the horses stomp the ground in the stable, hears Changkyun bite and suck on his finger in his sleep. His stomach’s grumbling echoes off the stone walls, and he decides that it’s time to let the human be helpful as he originally wanted.

He sneaks into the sleeping boy’s bed and shakes him, but Hyungwon only quietly whines and clutches the thin sheet tighter. His hair is scattered on the pillow, his mouth is slightly open, and his face is tranquil as he is still enjoying his peaceful dream. Minhyuk has never seen a human so vulnerable, so open from all sides and so easy to tear apart, and he inhales and closes his eyes as he tries to rationalise, suppress his carnivore instincts, think of Changkyun and the ugly wound on his shoulder. It started leaking through the bandages, red and yellow and smelling like stale meat, and Minhyuk exhales as he mentally admits that he needs this human’s help; that the sleeping boy is not his enemy.

When Hyungwon doesn’t wake up after another harsh nudge, Minhyuk bites his revealed shoulder, hard, with his front teeth. It’s painful enough to feel but not sharp around to cut the skin, and Hyungwon opens his eyes with a jerk and gasps. He scrambles away from Minhyuk, sits up by the wall and stares at the other with wide terrified eyes, not a hint of peaceful sleep left on his face.

“Wake up.” Minhyuk greets calmly. It takes the boy a few quick breaths to calm down.

“You scared me,” he mutters and presses a palm to his chest, sighing. Then he smiles softly, like a little white cloud in the clean blue sky, and his eyes glint with something cheerful, “good morning.”

Minhyuk doesn’t bother with human formalities. “I’m hungry.”

Hyungwon’s eyes widen again, this time with doom and realisation, and he throws the blanket away as he jumps off the bed. “Of course, I am sorry, I forgot, I will make – prepare – food now.” He quickly pulls thick wool socks on his feet and clumsily runs out of the bedroom. Minhyuk think humans aren’t very clever.

They catch Changkyun sleepily wander around the house. Hyungwon puts wood into the fireplace, hastily cleans the ashes, but when Changkyun plops on a chair and deeply yawns, looks at the other wolf and stops in his actions, as if enchanted. Minhyuk sits next to him, scratches behind his ear, caresses his naked back, and gives Hyungwon a prying stare.

“Why are you hurrying up so much?” The human boy blinks at the sound of his voice and moves his eyes to him. “I won’t eat you just because you wake up late.” There is a small smile tugging at Minhyuk’s lips as he watches Hyungwon drop his posture and sigh.

“I am sorry,” he shrugs with a little smile, “I just want to be of help.” He makes sure the fire is good enough and goes to the cool storeroom, to pick up some food. “I can offer a rabbit today.” He comes back with a skinned animal in hand, holding it by its back legs, and Changkyun’s eyes flick up with a glint. Minhyuk’s stomach grumbles, and Hyungwon huffs out a laugh, putting the rabbit on the table near the fireplace. He hangs a cauldron with yesterday’s broth on the trammel hook attached to the crane above the fire. “I will make some stew as well. It will be good for your recovery, Changkyun.”

The other doesn’t seem to react or reply, he watches the human walk around the kitchen, cover the meat in oil and herbs, put it on a spit and fit it between the scratched-up bricks of the fireplace. He is fixed on a knife in the hold of Hyungwon’s pale hands, how he cuts some tasteless roots and frozen vegetables, throws them in the cauldron. Minhyuk’s fingertips lightly caress along his curved hunched spine, feeling and hearing the big wolf heart thump inside him at the normal speed. This means he isn’t scared.

“I should change the bandages.” Hyungwon says and approaches him. His fingers tickle as he resists the urge to stroke along Changkyun’s shoulder, knowing that either of them can be on guard with him.

They go to the bedroom, sit Changkyun on the bed. Hyungwon raises his hands slowly, touches the other’s warm tanned skin with the tips of his fingers, gently, like he is scared it will break apart. He carefully unwraps the greyed bandages, paying close attention to the last layer that sticks to his skin, trying not to tug where the tacky residue leaked onto the fabric. Unpleasant stale smell hits him as he removes the bandages, and he nearly gasps at the wet wound. It has started closing up already.

“We regenerate faster than you humans.” Minhyuk breaks the silence with the explanation, and Hyungwon gets up to quickly rummage through his collection of herbs and medicine. Changkyun leans in, nuzzles into Minhyuk’s neck. Familiar sent has always calmed him down, even if today he can only perceive through instincts.

Hyungwon settles behind him again. “It is good that the bad stuff is out.” He carefully presses a soaked cloth to the wound, cleans the skin around it, holds the end of it to the exposed flesh, making Changkyun’s breath hitch. He smears a green paste over the wound and wraps a new layer of bandages over his shoulder. “These plants do magic.” Hyungwon’s hand lingers on the warm back, his eyes follow Changkyun’s sloping form to Minhyuk’s neck, jaw, lips and stopping at his black attentive eyes.

Something clicks in Hyungwon’s mind, and he jumps off the bed and runs to one of the ancient wooden cupboards by the wall. He rummages in a creaky feeble drawer before getting out a little pendant with mirthful eyes. A beautiful red stone is hanging on a black string, reflecting orange candlelight in the room. The human boy brings it to Changkyun, wraps it around his neck. 

“This is a garnet. Legend says it gives strength.” He explains, and the wolf boy looks down at the shining stone on his chest and pokes it with his fingers. He clutches it in his fist a moment later, giving Hyungwon an unreadable look that makes the other want to reach out and pinch his cheek. He grows a little confidence to believe that Changkyun feels safe with him. 

Minhyuk wants to mutter a word of gratitude, but even the boy’s soft smile cannot make him overcome the shame of being grateful for a human. Hyungwon doesn’t seem to expect anything in return. He straightens. “I have to take care of the horses.” He is about to leave when he turns around in the doorway, lower lip bitten. “You can come with me, if you want?”

The forest is known to be beautiful in the day, when the sun shines softly and glides along the crystal snow, when dark everlasting pine trees aren’t scary but welcoming, when this eternal winter seems bearable. Minhyuk knows Changkyun will want to sleep and rest the whole day, so he lets the other lie down and curl into himself. He shortly ruffles his hair and pecks his forehead and walks up to Hyungwon, noticing his shy eyes blinking with a little bit of confusion as he happened to witness another tender gesture. He realised it by now – Minhyuk is caring and thoughtful, just loyal to his kind and wary of humans, and there is nothing to blame him for.

They fill their stomachs with the rabbit and feed Changkyun the stew, which Minhyuk categorically refused to even sniff. He could eat the animal raw, but humans store and freeze their meat, and frozen meat is never as good as freshly caught one. As they were eating, Hyungwon quickly ran to the stable to give the horses food before he can warm them up. He says they have to be active, and when he is the only one in the house, it’s his job to make sure they are fed and exercised. He equips himself with warm clothes and long boots, gives Minhyuk several wool layers and his brother’s big felt-boots and mittens. He doesn’t necessarily require this much protection. When he is healthy and his stomach is filled, he can keep himself warm and moving even if his fur is shed. His big wolf heart keeps him alive even if the deadly blizzard is all he knows. The human boy, so much unlike him, starts jumping around as soon as he goes outside, stomps the newly fallen snow, pulls his fur-made parka further up his neck, until his mouth, and rubs his mittens-clad hands together, vulnerable in the face of the cold. 

Minhyuk looks up and smiles. The sky is white, clouded, but it’s bright and illuminating. Rare snowflakes float in the windless air, landing on his hair and nose, and he sticks his tongue out to catch at least one, although in vain. He breathes in. It’s fresh, cold, but it’s safe. Old pine trees spread for miles and miles with no other human soul in sight, only meek wild animals hide in the shadows and shy forest gremlins dig their grottos in giant tree barks.

They head to the stable, another small stone construction next to the house with heavy wooden doors. Hyungwon quickly sneaks inside, but Minhyuk hesitates, contemplates. He is not a friend to domestic animals, and horses aren’t friends for him. They follow their human’s command, run after him as if the ground underneath is fire, rise on their back legs and kick with heavy hoofs. But the inside the stable seems quiet, so Minhyuk comes in, letting a little bit of white light inside. The human boy is standing in front of a tall black stallion, pale hand on his nose. As soon as Minhyuk steps in, the animal jerks and moves away, huffing. Another black creature in the neighbouring stall, a mare, copies, throwing her head back with sharp huffs, and Hyungwon’s face hardens.

“No.” He sternly exclaims and clicks his tongue multiple times, calling the horse to him. “Raven, come here.” He takes a small whip hanging by the stall and taps it on the door. The animal quiets down but doesn’t get closer, so the boy extends his hand and makes a specific noise with his lips, encouraging the horse to follow his hand. “Good boy, don’t be scared, come here.” he whispers in his own tongue. The warm nose is back under his touch, and he shushes the huffing stallion, stroking along the front of his nose and patting his neck. He turns to a frozen Minhyuk. “Come here. He has to know you are not going to hurt him,” he calls softly and turns back to the animal, “he has to know you are a friend.”

Minhyuk takes tentative steps towards the stalls, and the horse jerks his head again, but Hyungwon shushes him. The gorgeous stallion stays still when Minhyuk stands in front of him, looking into big black eyes that read distrust and fear, but his owner’s presence is calming, secure. “Stroke his neck.” Hyungwon quietly tells him, and he takes the mittens off and slowly extends his hand. The horse huffs and breathes louder but doesn’t move away. A muscle under his palm twitches when he touches the warm black coat, stroking down the smooth surface. Hyungwon smiles, patting the horse’s strong jaw and reaching into his pocket to take out a peeled carrot he wanted to use for the stew. “This is Raven. He is a little old now. He was born when I was a small boy, I raised him since he was just a foal.” Hyungwon’s smile is warm, it puffs his cheeks and his eyes, softens his features. He looks at the chewing horse with endearment that Minhyuk has never seen before. He didn’t believe that humans could care for their animals. “We grew up together. He listens to me the best.” When he lets go of Raven, he moves to the next stall with a nervous mare. “This is Night. She’s quite young.” He caresses her jaws and her nose, touches the perked-up ears. “The rest of the herd is my family’s.” He gestures around at the empty stalls and starts walking around, collecting equipment.

Minhyuk listens. It’s fascinating to hear the human boy talk in his prettily accented Lekhver and share about himself and people he lives with, it’s calming. Even though his family are gruesome fonaki. “They’re hunters.” He states, and Hyungwon musters an apologetic smile, throwing a rope over his forearm.

“My two older brothers followed my father’s steps. They are in the kingdom right now, they are trading and buying us food and materials.” He enters Raven’s stall and starts preparing him, brushing his mane and his coat, wrapping his legs, cleaning his hoofs. “I do not have many things to do when I am alone.” He sighs, throwing a bridle over the stallion’s head and a pad and a saddle over his back, tying it with a girth. “I never liked that my father is a hunter, but this is the only way we live.” He attaches stirrups, adjusting them knowingly, and Minhyuk thinks that humans have to learn too many things to live a fulfilled life. And yet, Hyungwon is an interesting kind to watch. He understands Raven – he has a calming presence.

“Survive?” He corrects the boy absentmindedly, and the other gasps as he straightens.

“Yes, survive, this is what I mean.” He prepares Night, only puts a bridle on her and attaches the rope to it. “Do you mind… help me with her?” He asks with hesitation, leading the mare out of her stall. Minhyuk doesn’t like horses but takes the rope anyways, and Hyungwon runs to the heavy door to open it wide, letting cold winter in. He leads Raven outside too, into the small meadow the hunter’s house is hidden in. It’s not big but it’s enough to gallop the horse around.

Hyungwon tells him to just walk the mare in a circle, let her warm up her legs. To Minhyuk, this activity is boring, but Hyungwon climbs onto the saddle, black-clothed warrior on the black horse, his black hair straight and shiny, falling into his eyes and over his ears. He takes the lead and straightens his back, his feet firm and his face concentrated. He looks elegant, not like a hunter at all, but so much like a royalty. Minhyuk hates the human king, the aran, for he was at fault behind the eternal winter in Losdór and so many-many deaths of so many creatures of his own country. If it weren’t for him, maybe the wolves wouldn’t be hunted down and slaughtered like celebration turkeys.

And yet, despite the inner rage, Minhyuk watches Hyungwon tap the horse’s belly with sharp heels and decide the walking pace, watches his torso lightly sway with every step, and he nearly forgets about Night slowly pacing around him with her head hung low. He encourages her by clicking his tongue, just how Hyungwon does it when he sets Raven into trot. He rises and sits smoothly, breeches tight on his legs and furry coat bouncing with each move, his hair is ruffled and pushed out of his forehead, revealing a concentrated frown of thick dark eyebrows, and his lips are pressed together. Minhyuk would think he is going for a chase like a pure-blooded hunter he is, tracking the prey’s steps and weapons ready, but Hyungwon smiles slightly and pats the horse’s neck after they relax and go into walk, and the same cheerful glint is back in his eyes. And the more he observes the human boy handle the horse, the more he lets his guard down for him, and it’s a feeling he is too cautious to admit to.

Hyungwon tells him how to set Night into trot with a small whip in his hand and continues cantering around the meadow, bouncing ever so slightly in the saddle with every move. He exercises for quite some time until the sun starts setting and covering the meadow in gloomy grey, making the snow dull and trees dark. The boy stops and jumps off the horse, walks him to the stable, and Minhyuk collects the mare, gathers all the lead and gently pats her neck.

A sudden rumble in the distance scares the poor creatures, and Night neighs and treads backwards, throwing her head to free herself from the rope. Hyungwon twitches his head to shush her and shivers too. A stream of dark grey smoke rises in the air, very far away, all the way in the Goblin Mountains, where no human soul ever comes to make peace. They frown knowingly, distant thudding reaching them as heavy rocks crumble and fall down steep cliffs, and a deep growl echoes across the entire kingdom.

“They’re battling the Great Dragon again, stupid humans.” Minhyuk mumbles. Hyungwon turns around, his face a mixture or worry and remorse, like it’s his sole fault that men are creatures of war and death, that the eternal winter is a curse for human rage.

They stand outside in the cold until the roaring subsides and dies down. Another couple, or maybe couple of dozens, was lost today. The Dragon is unbeatable. Neither of them has ever seen him – he has always been just a legend, a massive flaming cloud passing above their heads when they were damned ten years ago, a rare roar in the distance. He has always served as a reminder that humans are the cruellest of them all. 

Minhyuk and Hyungwon bring the horses to the stable, clean them, feed them little somethings from hand.

“Thank you for helping me.” Hyungwon smiles brightly, and Minhyuk has to put a little bit of effort into trying not to reciprocate the gesture. He nods and follows the boy back inside the house.

 

Until the very evening, Hyungwon busies himself with cleaning the house, hiding all the sharp objects to make his guests feel contented and safe, cooking for three and mixing medicinal potions. Minhyuk and Changkyun don’t find much to do – all the books are in Nimlam, all the games are too complicated for Changkyun's animal-stuck headspace, all food is cut and prepared, even all the clothes are washed. So they settle on watching the owner of the house do all the job, follow him around and help him sort out various herbs into separate pots. Hyungwon says that he is bored to death when he is alone, so he taught himself to do useful things around the house as a distraction. This somehow convinced his father to let him be, to accept him as a son, not a hunter. He stays home when the rest of his family goes hunting or trading, and he has all the time in the world to invent, or travel to the nearest village – the poor and unprotected Gobelor, a settlement underneath the Western Mountains that no one seems to remember.

After dinner, Hyungwon suggests a bath. “We should cut your hair too.” He mumbles as he runs his fingers between Changkyun’s tangled strands. The other doesn’t mind, leans into the touch, cheeks full of food and eyes hazy but shining. He is happy when he’s fed, happy when he’s well rested, happy that the shoulder doesn’t hurt anymore, and Minhyuk’s little endeared smile doesn’t hide from Hyungwon observing eyes.

The boy heats up some water in a few pitchers, pours a little over the wooden round tub in the corner of the house by the chimney to warm it up. People of Losdór aren’t strangers to bathing together with family members, and Changkyun and Minhyuk are well-nigh inseparable when they are back home, always taking care of each other, always huddling in the same tent even if the land is vast and welcoming. So they take off their clothes, help Changkyun untangle himself from the tunic Hyungwon gave him, and climb inside, shivering just a little bit after the loss of warm layers. They unwrap the bandages too – and to everyone’s happy surprise, the wound healed some more since morning, nearly closed up. Hyungwon takes the pitchers, stands behind Changkyun. The other raises his head, looks the boy directly in the eyes with a puzzled stare and whines in question, so humanly and so comprehensively, like a dog that has been told a new command he has never heard before.

Hyungwon smiles. “I am not going, I am washing.” He pets Changkyun’s head and pours a little bit of warm water over his hair. It doesn’t soak immediately. Drops fall from his tousled strands onto his shoulders and forearms, and Hyungwon carefully brushes through the locks with his fingers, pushes them away from his forehead, pouring more water. Changkyun squeezes his eyes shut and crinkles his face, making the other two smile. Minhyuk, who was sitting on the opposite side with his knees pressed against his chest and arms wrapped around his legs, gets up and reaches for the second pitcher, volunteering to help the human boy clean the other wolf.

Hyungwon gathers Changkyun’s wet long hair at the back into his fist, gently massages his scalp. He takes a block of soap, foams his hands and runs his palm down his shoulders, tremendously careful in the area around the wound on his shoulder blade, hunches and slides down the lean bulging chest, golden skin softer than what the human boy pictured wolves to feel like in changed form. Minhyuk and Changkyun are nothing like anything Hyungwon ever knew before. Minhyuk rises on his knees and towers over the other, as if hiding and protecting him from the human as he washes his legs, thighs, hips, with soapy hands. A new flow of warm water washes the foam away, making the skin glisten, reflect the slight golden glow of the house in vertical strips.

While the water is still pleasant, Hyungwon moves to stand behind Minhyuk, who took his original curled-up form. He washes his hair, and the other looks up, throwing his head back completely to be able to look at the human boy, stretching and exposing his neck. Hyungwon rubs soap-covered fingers over the throat column, feeling the firm ridges and bobbing Adam’s apple hiding under thin skin, trying to avoid looking into Minhyuk’s black scrutinising eyes. A small smile touches the corner of his lips before he pours some water over his face, and the other squeezes his eyes and wrinkles his nose, loveable in the strangest way Hyungwon didn’t think was possible. He bubbles Minhyuk’s narrow yet steady shoulders, glides down the rounded back, circulates his dry slim arms. He lets the other wash the rest of his body himself where he cannot reach; cannot reach and isn’t invited to either, still a stranger in his own home.

Thin but large cotton towels are the only things Hyungwon can offer to wrap the two guests in after the bath, and he sits them by the fireplace to prevent them from getting cold. He throws more layers over their legs, heartbroken at only the thought of Minhyuk and Changkyun shivering like two abandoned pups. He finds a brush and a pair of scissors and sits opposite Changkyun. “Should we cut your hair?” Hyungwon unconsciously softens his voice and smiles down at the smaller boy with inflated fondness.

He brushes through Changkyun’s long strands with a small ivory comb, flattening it in front of his forehead. Minhyuk watches carefully, eyes fixed on the scissors in his hand, and Hyungwon swallows down the unintentional nervousness and makes the first cut. He never means to hurt the two wolves, he makes sure everything he does is as careful as possible, slow, gentle, and a bit of disappointment stings in his chest. But he understands and doesn’t have the time to feel upset when Changkyun lightly kicks his legs and crinkles his eyes at the tickling sensation on his neck. Black strands fall on his shoulders and the floor. Hyungwon spins around him, gradually turning a long-haired disarray into a small human head. He ruffles Changkyun’s hair quickly, sending small stray remains flying in the air, before leaning back with a tiny satisfied grin. Now he can access the other’s cheeks without having to search for his face through a chaos of locks.

Living in the woods has its own advantages that people of the city may not necessarily understand. There is never any noise outside of their windows, no societal expectations. Hyungwon’s family members have a lot of time for themselves, and when they are busy, Hyungwon is in charge of entertaining himself, be it traveling to the kingdom, gathering and buying herbs from woodland shamans, or learning new skills at home. Which is why he wets his hands, soaps them and applies a layer of foam over Changkyun’s chin and mouth and raises a razor blade in front of his face with a question in his unsure eyes and curved eyebrows. Minhyuk squints and grunts in his throat, focused on the sharp objects in the other’s graceful hands. Hyungwon looks him in the eyes, somehow more assertive, and slowly presses the blade to the area above Changkyun’s lips. He grazes down, shaving off the faint daily stubble. Hyungwon frequently takes care of his father’s and brothers’ hygiene, and he is sure that he can succeed in returning the wolf back into Minhyuk’s arm without a scratch.

When he is done, Hyungwon takes a soaked cloth and wipes Changkyun’s face off the remains of the soap, brushes along his scarred cheeks, playfully slides down his high nose, making the other grimace with a small smile on the thin lips. The human boy cannot help a flood of affection that washes over him whenever Changkyun smiles, wrinkles his sharp black eyes, hiding any signs of threat in them, lightly taps Hyungwon’s wrist to stop the unintentional tickling sensation. There are tiny round dimples on his cheeks. He resists the urge to poke them and turns to the other wolf, crooking his eyebrows in apology at the sight of the other’s brooding plucked lips and down-looking eyes.

Hyungwon thinks back to their first encounter. Minhyuk was a feral animal in his eyes, bare, raw, covered in dirt, his eyes were wide and glistening with menace, screaming danger, hostility. He was covered in poisonous spikes and spoke in snarls, communicated with scowls and watched with scary precision. The human boy sighs hearteningly at the increasing proof that the other gifts him more and more of his trust every moment they share together. Minhyuk allows himself to feel a little bit relieved and drop his defence at times, allows himself to feel protected instead of protecting, because the human boy’s hands are gentler than rose petals, and they caress his face with unbelievably humane care.

Finishing with Minhyuk, Hyungwon puts the wolves to bed, saying that they both need a lot of rest to gather strength for the way back home, whenever that might be. There is a note of fleeting sadness in his voice – and even though he knows the two won’t stay with him, he can’t help but wish for the time to halt and allow him to be a little less lonely for a while longer.

 

Living with the human boy turned out to be much more enjoyable than Minhyuk originally thought. Two days later, and Changkyun heals completely. Only a pink round bump is left to remind them of the fateful chase. Hyungwon learns more about the two boys as Minhyuk opens up more and more, as he volunteers to help him cook and even clean around the house. They are very far away from home, two lonely wolves separated from their extensive pack residing in the distant mountains. They went for a hunt of their own, to explore wilder sides of the country, but the attack of the fonaki was sudden, scary, and they were forced to run.

“Blizzards promise to be strong this month,” Hyungwon says as they are wiping the bowls dry after having supper. Minhyuk knows, senses, hears the wind howl every night outside the protective circle of the woods. “They valley is not the safest place right now.” The human boy sighs. Even in the whiteness and the vastness of the snowstorms, the danger of encountering the hunters is massive. Minhyuk takes Hyungwon’s warning as an invitation to stay with him for longer, because they all know the journey home is a risk to their life.

And even though Changkyun showed all signs of perfect physical health, he hasn’t been here, hasn’t been with them completely. He sits at the table with his head hung low, fighting his own limits, scratching the wooden surface, tugging at the lose collar of the light tunic that is too hot for his body, too tight. Minhyuk feels the discomfort, hears the other’s silent whimpers as he tries to set himself free but doesn’t quite understand how. Sometimes he sits quietly, black eyes hazy and unfocused, calm, but other times he catches Minhyuk’s hands and looks up with an almost conscious plea for help, but no one could help him when a healing wound was still raw, red.

But now, healthy, fed and rested, Changkyun breathes hard, a swallowed whine stuck in his throat, and teeth hurting, itching. Minhyuk slides by his side just before Changkyun falls off the chair to insert his canines into the table, just into anything hard to make the urge go away. Minhyuk holds his head, caresses his back, shushes, before the decision comes to him.

He whips his head abruptly back to Hyungwon, who is standing by the fireplace sorting the tableware, and the boy jerks at the sudden motion. “What is it?”

Minhyuk holds the eye contact, reads the familiar gentleness and care in the human’s eyes, and his mind lights up. “I will change.” A corner of his mouth goes up in a delighted smile, and before Hyungwon can mutter a puzzled ‘what’, grabs Changkyun under the armpits and puts him on his feet. “Let’s go, child.” He heads for the door, determined and inspired, anticipating, smelling the cold fresh winter air before it hits his face.

He rushes outside, icy crystal snow stinging under his bare feet and white sky blinding him, but none of it matters. He takes off his clothes as he runs further into the meadow, cool wind embracing his body into his its arms, like a child of nature that has finally found his home. His home has always been in the wild.

Hyungwon appears in the doorway, somehow out of breath and eyes wide and anxious. He watches as Minhyuk stands in the empty wide space, a dot of tanned skin and black hair vibrant in the pale surrounding, watches him drop on his knees and throw his head back, face up for the endless heavens above. Then he turns back around for the briefest of the moment, just a light sway of his head, but Hyungwon has to hold in a gasp at the intensity of Minhyuk’s eyes as they scarily shift from raven-black to brown to lighter, lighter. A corner of Minhyuk’s mouth moves up right before a violent spasm runs through his body and arches his back unnaturally, terrifying the human boy to death.

Invisible forces shove Minhyuk onto the snow, engulfing him in the white piles, and for several moments, Hyungwon cannot hear anything other than a shrieking ring in his head. Unreasonable terror spreads in his chest, freezes his limbs, hitches his breath. He feels like he is going blind, nothing else but snow obscuring his vision as he desperately searches and waits for the other boy to appear in his normal form, with his lithe body and sharp black eyes that radiate warmth beyond all other things. He doesn’t know what he expects, who he is afraid of, what his future will be, but he doesn’t have the strength to move his feet just a step back and close the door, protect himself from the unknown.

He has never seen a wolf before.

Before a big, big brown creature rises from the ground. Its eyes are glowing a firing amber, its dark auburn fur is fluttering in the light cool wind, and its black nose sniffing, sensing. Hyungwon holds in his breath as his jaw chatters and his eyes water from the cold and fear that the beast is inflicting. But no, no, it’s not a beast. He catches Changkyun crawling in the snow somewhere beside him, tanned back exposed, soft lean arms propping his body, big crooked human nose twitching. Hyungwon tries to push the panic back inside, face the creature in front of him, hold the gaze of dangerous amber eyes. It doesn’t move. Only its tail swings behind him.

Hyungwon moves his mind to Changkyun’s human presence, bends his knees and slowly squats down, crouches, shaking hands feeling the cutting snow below him. He knows wolves hate being looked at from above. This is why they are so large, so much larger than a normal animal, so glorious and powerful and dangerous, and yet so feeble and breakable on the inside. It calms him down, the thought that he knows who’s hiding under the thick skin and fur, under the sharp canines and tearing claws.

Then the creature makes a move, steps forward, neck leaning forward for comfort. Hyungwon holds his breath again, too scared to release a shuddering gasp or a sob, so he lets cold lonely tears slip down his cheeks. The animal approaches him, tall, majestic, terrifying, amber eyes glowing and yet not expressing any danger. Not expressing anything at all. Hyungwon doesn’t know how to read eyes that are so inhuman.

The wolf releases a huff, white fog forming out of his mouth and nostrils, and it’s the only sound Hyungwon perceives in such a deafening silence. Raven huffs at him too, he does it when he wants a pat, or food, or praise. And so he raises his hand from the snow, water dripping from the pale skin. His thin frail arm shakes mercilessly, but the creature doesn’t follow it with its eyes, stays focused on his face. Hyungwon’s teeth chatter, and his breathing in unstable, rough. His hand is in the air, halfway to the creature’s big neck, and the more he tries to stop shaking, the more he does. He closes his eyes, blindly moving his hand forward, until soft long fur tickles his fingertips. He buries his hand deeper, sliding along until he can grab the fur between his fingers.

And then he looks up.

The wolf—Minhyuk—doesn’t move, looks at him, encourages him to carry on. He grunts and slightly moves his head, indicating for Hyungwon to pat him. And he listens, scratches along the neck, gently, still coming down from the terror he experienced. He moves up, towards the big head, soft cheeks, narrow solid muzzle. Rubs behind the standing ear, and the creature blinks and leans into the touch, huffing and telling Hyungwon to be brave, scrub him however he wants with his delicate hands. Hyungwon smiles, and a sudden, lumpy exhale of relief leaves his chest. He brings his second hand to the warm fur, scratching the wolf’s big neck and head, face. Minhyuk’s face.

He twitches when he hears unexpected grunting and thumping beside him. Hyungwon turns to Changkyun’s curled-up form, whines leaving his mouth and legs kicking empty air. A loud crack catches Hyungwon off guard, he gasps and clutches his hands on his chest. Changkyun writhes on the ground, and his face contorts with pain the human boy wishes he has never seen, and his eyes tear up again as he realises that he cannot help. It hurts to look.

But Minhyuk acts faster, captures Changkyun’s neck between his jaws and drags him along the snow further into the meadow, hiding him in the whiteness and saving Hyungwon the gruesome sight. A piercing human cry scares the crows in the woods, echoes, before turning into a growl, deep, hoarse, chilling. Hyungwon doesn’t breathe, waiting.

Diagonally to any expectations and fears, the big grey wolf jumps up with a happily open mouth, tongue out, and leaps on the other creature, paws as if capturing him in a hug. Hyungwon looks, alone on his knees by his house, cold, with drying tears on his riming cheeks, and smiles. The wolves, joyfully in their right bodies, play in the meadow like they haven’t been free for months, harmlessly biting each other like puppies, tumbling on the ground and covering themselves in snow. And Hyungwon suddenly feels so light, lightheaded, easy at heart.

Minhyuk and Changkyun howl for the grey sunless sky together.

 

They don’t leave. Changkyun seems to get back to normal, according to Minhyuk, but he still doesn’t talk. There is understanding in his eyes Hyungwon has never known before, he shows fully conscious gestures of gratitude, embraces the human boy, helps him cook, shaves his face, but not a single time has he uttered a word, a sound beyond yawns and whines.

Hyungwon doesn’t mind. It’s the opposite—the more time he spends with the wolves, the more he learns about them, the closer he gets, the more he wants them to stay. While the blizzard is still rampaging in the snow valley, while the fonaki are still out there, a hanging menace, the two sleep in Hyungwon’s bed, play in his meadow, eat his food and paint his loneliness in colours he has never dreamed of before. And he is not scared, not anymore. He is safe, because Minhyuk and Changkyun silently volunteered to keep him warm and protected.

This time they bath together. Hyungwon only manages to step into the wooden tub with one leg when Minhyuk tugs at his arms and nearly tumbles him over, laughing and clinging to Changkyun for defence. The other opens his mouth in a quiet giggle, doesn’t release a sound, only leans against the round corner and shrinks into himself, knees to his chest. There’s barely any space for the three of them—when Hyungwon rises on his knees to pour water over the smaller boy’s head, his hips press to the other’s legs, and he has to try hard to keep his balance.

Minhyuk slides his soapy hand along his slender torso with peculiar interest, as if studying. His fingertips trace the delicate jutting ribs, wavy motions over the bones and hollows, walk over the ridges of his chest, rub his thin firm arms, so thin it’s like they stick to the bone. Minhyuk washes behind his ears, hugs him and slips down his back, fingertips bouncing over the bulging spine, caressing his wing-like shoulder blades, counting rounded bones of his ribcage. He rinses down his body to the hips, helping the foam to glide down his thin wiry thighs, watching as the skin starts to glisten with water.

“Breakable,” is all Minhyuk mutters under his breath, washing the soap away. Hyungwon doesn’t question, takes over the pitcher and scratches the boys’ backs in order, to which Changkyun purrs, lowly and so uncharacteristically to the wolf he becomes.

At night, Hyungwon wakes up to a pair of arms around his waist and a head of hair under his chin, noses poking his neck and feet tangling with his own. Closer to the early morning, when he starts to shiver, he feels rapid heavy heartbeat under his palm and hot brown fur, big animal head barely fitting on the pillow. In the morning, he is warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little positive chapter for kyunnie's birthday 
> 
> kudos and comments are as always appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning in the end for things in the tags like violence and also mentioned animal abuse? this fic is really not suitable for vegetarians im so sorry

The time comes when Minhyuk plops on the bed with a huff and a pout, breathing in the herbal air and Hyungwon’s boiling stew, thinking about his life. The time when he gets a little bit bored, and a mute Changkyun doesn’t help him much. He tried learning potion-making with the owner of the house, attempted horse-riding with him, taught him Lekhver, supervised him at night to go to the forest gremlins to buy some mystical moon flowers that glow in the dark. He doesn’t miss his pack as much anymore. But the Summerfall Mountains are high, vast and fun, clean of any humans, warm and friendly. They sleep in open tents, catch birds and harpies, and don’t involve themselves in moronic wars and battles. It’s humans’ job, not theirs.

So Minhyuk sits up, looks over the familiar room, eyes lingering on a playing Changkyun on the floor and falling on a shabby wooden cabinet by the bed. It’s tall, reaches the ceiling, and probably hides so many secrets. So he gets up and opens the heavy doors, smell of old wood getting into his nostrils. There Minhyuk finds stacks of light summer clothing, pants and shirts, with delicate woven designs and flowery patterns, silver jewellery and thin sandals. It has been years since humans were able to wear summer clothes. Minhyuk shrugs—it’s their fault, they cursed themselves.

There are cracked pots and tattered books, rusty spears and a pair of a small bow and a short arrow, meant for a child. But hidden at the back of all these artefacts, covered in layers of dust and soot, is a wooden sledge. It’s not big, handmade, but well-crafted. And Minhyuk feels his ears twitch in an uncontrollable urge to perk up at the sudden idea, at the brilliant opportunity, at the potential play. He turns around to see Changkyun trying to look behind him to find the source of Minhyuk’s excitement he immediately sensed, and Minhyuk is more than inspired. He just has to persuade Hyungwon.

He pulls the sledge out of the cabinet, and it lends on the floor with a deaf thud, making glass bowls on the floor clink. All sounds in the kitchen stop. Minhyuk and Changkyun wait, exchange looks. Hyungwon comes in with a confused frown a few seconds later, wrinkle between his eyebrows deepening when his eyes fall on the sledge.

“Why did you take it?” He asks in puzzlement, no notes of accusation in his voice.

Minhyuk raises his chin, a victorious grin on his face. “We shall go outside and play.”

This takes Hyungwon by surprise. “But how?”

The other huffs an incredulous laugh, unable to believe that the human boy still doesn’t understand. Changkyun, still sitting on the floor by the sledge, grins too, sparkles of mirth in his normally deep black eyes. He jumps up and goes to the door, nodding Hyungwon towards the exit, and runs out, breeches carelessly discarded on the floor. Minhyuk, using Hyungwon’s unending confusion, turns back to the cabinet, finds a torn but still tight rope, quickly grabs the weighted wooden sledge and hurries after Changkyun, laughing. The human boy is clumsy, doesn’t immediately realise the necessity to follow the two wolves, and when he is in the doorway leading to the glistening whiteness outside, he sees the two creatures playing in the snow around the sledge.

Minhyuk picks up the rope with his mouth, glowing amber eyes looking straight at Hyungwon with something so humanly conscious and soulful, and the human boy only manages a little smile before he rushes back inside the house to dress himself. 

Running outside, Hyungwon hops through the piles of snow, holding onto the large furry hood that the light wind keeps blowing off his small head. Changkyun, big, grey and excited, runs to him, freezing the human boy in his boots as he braces himself for the impact with the animal, eyes closed and arms in front of his chest. The wolf jumps up, tall enough to reach Hyungwon’s face, and he hugs the big warm creature with a little grimacing smile and crinkled eyes as Changkyun licks the side of his face and tumbles him on the ground. And even if he doesn’t make a single human sound, doesn’t have a human mimic, Hyungwon can see the other smile and silently laugh, like he always does at home when he is happy.

Minhyuk runs into the forest with the rope in his mouth and the sledge attached to it, rushing through the tall woods. Snow splashes back from his fast feet, covering Changkyun and Hyungwon in white flakes. The grey wolf hurries eagerly after the other with his tongue out and cloudy yellow eyes sparkling with almost readable excitement. The human boy laughs as he jogs and jumps through the snow, trying to catch up with the two creatures that resemble domestic dogs more and more with each day they spend together, rather than terrifying and dangerous wolves he was always so curious to meet.

When the woods finish, they find themselves in the vast, snow-covered meadow, clean, untouched, nearly magical. Hyungwon smiles as he recognises the place, once green and welcoming, and now empty, soulless. And yet, it hasn’t lost its ephemeral beauty under the heavy layers of eternal snow.

Minhyuk drops the rope, turns to Hyungwon and signals on it with his head. Changkyun steps over it to stand in the improvised circle, picks up the rope with his mouth and whips his head in attempts to move the sledge, all in vain. The boy chuckles and approaches his companions. He fixes the rope around their stomachs with skilled hands—he frequently prepares the dog sled for his father and brothers, feeds the dogs, spends time with them so they don’t forget him when they leave to the kingdom for weeks on end.

Once he is confident that the wolves are fastened well and the rope is attached to the sledge, he sits down, holding onto the wooden handlers tightly. He almost sees the two creatures exchange humanlike mischievous grins before they abruptly break into a fast run. The sledge detaches from the ground, bounces on the bumpy snow, and Hyungwon yelps in shock, pressing his entire body to the bottom of the sledge. Two wolves are stronger than a whole pack of domestic dogs.

Changkyun and Minhyuk sprint around the meadow, snow spurting from under their synchronised feet and right into Hyungwon’s face. He laughs, and the brown creature looks back at him quickly, amicable amber eyes glowing in the empty whiteness around. Suddenly, they take a sharp turn right in front of the forest, and the human boy prepares to scream at the impact with the hard wood, but the sledge drifts aside, hesitates and rushes after the ever so wild wolves.

When they stop, Hyungwon laughs and holds onto his chest, heartbeat sped up with more excitement than fear. He has never laughed this high and long with his family around, never had this much joy with any human before. He slumps in the sledge, falsely tricked into believing he is allowed to rest, and Minhyuk and Changkyun take off again, slower this time. Hyungwon squeals, holds on for dear life and happily lets the two carry him around. His laughter is the only clue they understand to keep going.

They trot around until the clouds start to grow blue. The wolves with their inhuman stamina take Hyungwon under the arch of snow-covered woods, draw patterns on the ruffled meadow, and they don’t need to stop. They can keep running until the break of day when they are sheltered and content just like that.

Hyungwon lets the wolves rest and play with each other and gets out of the sledge himself, weak on his legs and head a little dizzy. He falls on the disheveled snow and breathes in. Distant crowns of the high woods tower over him, rare tranquil snowflakes fall on his nose, and he remembers the last time he has been on that meadow, when instead of snow it was golden pollen that hid in his hair, and under his feet was tickling fresh grass.

Excited yellow eyes and a wet hanging tongue get into his vision, and he sits up with an immediate smile, accepting an affectionate Changkyun into his arms. The wolf nuzzles into his covered neck with his wet nose, and Hyungwon plays with his perked-up ears and scratches behind his cheeks and neck, chuckling fondly at the puppy-like panting the other displays at the touch. 

“Good boy,” Hyungwon praises in the softest voice, making Changkyun close his eyes, “you’re a good boy.”

Then there is a warm wet sensation on his face, and the human boy crinkles his eyes and puffs his cheeks in a smile when a large tongue runs from his nose to his forehead. He tucks his head backwards a little bit, jaw rounding and softening, but he doesn’t mean to escape the affection. Changkyun licks over his chin and lips and sits backwards with an open mouth, as if smiling.

Hyungwon feels a little flutter in his chest at the warm thought that the two boys he temporarily sheltered in his house found it in themselves to be grateful for him too. “Go-o-o-o-od boy,” Hyungwon singsongs, rubbing the animal’s soft cheeks. He doesn’t know what else to say.

Minhyuk comes jumping on his back out of nowhere, tumbling him on the ground and fiercely nosing into his parka in a game he thought of himself. Hyungwon laughs melodically, scratching the wolf’s head.

They play around until the sky slowly changes its colour to blue, indicating the rapidly approaching evening. Hyungwon crouches by the sitting Minhyuk and gazes at the bleary sky, clouds so thick and dense it’s impossible to see through. Changkyun is lying in the snow by his side, eyes closed, probably taking a nap.

“I remember coming to this place when I was just a little boy.” Hyungwon shares. His hand is resting on the back of Minhyuk’s neck. “I think I was nine years old when we came here last, we gathered,” he looks around the darkening trees in the distance, searching for words in the language that was still not his own, “chamomile and lavender for tea with my brothers. They weaved flower crowns and put them on my head, called me names—like princess, or fairy, laughed at me. Jaewon pushed me, and I was swallowed by a tall bush of arnicas. I was all sticky from pollen and nectar when I got out and found no one else around me. I think faeries used to inhabit this meadow, and I always came here to torture my luck to see them. I once heard a legend that dryads kept all these trees alive, but then humans flooded the woods, and they left. I don’t know where they are now, but I hope they are still alive. It has been ten years since I last breathed in summer air.”

And if Changkyun is already lulled to sleep, then Minhyuk listens, or at least looks like he does. Hyungwon still doesn’t always understand the two wolves, struggles to read their needs, their emotions, but he feels an inhumanly strong connection with them that he has never felt with anyone before.

 

Hyungwon comes into the cold storage room to find one last piece of turkey left hanging off the hook. His hunter family has left him enough food for the weeks they are supposed to be gone for; the only catch is that it was meant for him alone. Not him and two insanely hungry wolves.

Gobelor is the closest inhabited place to the forest, a poor shabby village settled at the foot of the Western Mountains of the Lossoth. The king of Losdór believes he owns them, and yet he provides no help to the impoverished population. Hyungwon sighs as he takes the plucked bird by its legs and brings it to the fireplace, deep in thought as he prepares the ingredients to cook their last meal of the day. It will take him an hour with a tail to get to Gobelor if he gallops with Raven. He can make it back home before midnight. The concerning struggle is finding fresh meat to feed the carnivores residing in his room. Hyungwon can live off vegetables and roots all winter round, but the wolves need strength, need to extinguish their unending hunger, need to… satisfy the thirst for blood.

He fixes the spit with the turkey over the fire with an absent mind, stares at the orange flames with a blank stare and misses the two boys coming back home on the smell of herbs and cooking meat. They volunteered to help clean the stable. Raven and Night grew to like them, especially Changkyun—he sneakily gives them more snacks than Hyungwon allows him to, and they nuzzle their black noses under his always warm small palm.

“Supper, supper!” Minhyuk skips to the table and plops on the chair in snow-covered breeches, and Hyungwon jerks at the sudden sound, thrown out of his thoughts. The corners of his mouth autonomously go up, and he turns to look over the two boys, their blushed cheeks and red tips of their noses and ears, damp hair and hungry glints in their black eyes. His smile turns into an unhappy pout, and he frowns.

“Take off your clothes! You came from the outside!” He scolds and huffs, throwing his head back. Changkyun breathes out a silent giggle and makes a funny face at the watery trace his soaked feet left on the wooden floor. Minhyuk rolls his eyes but obeys nevertheless, pulling off the wet breeches that aren’t even his. They remain in Hyungwon’s thin undergarments and shirts and start messing around with the cutlery on the table. The human boy sighs and shakes his head but a small fond smile still spreads on his face. He is growing accustomed to occasional flutters his heart experiences whenever the two boys are around.

After supper, Hyungwon gets ready to head out to Gobelor. It is already dark outside. He can only hope kind butchers sell him meat at this time of the day. He instructs Minhyuk and Changkyun on how to behave—it is the first time he leaves the two boys to their autonomy while he is out of the house. Minhyuk, as the older of the two, proudly raises his chin and hits his chest as he promises to look after their little wolf settlement in time of Hyungwon’s absence. The human boy is nervous, uneasy, and he fidgets with his fingers as he hesitates by the front door. Then he hurriedly holds the boys close in order and leaves quick kisses on their foreheads, telling them he will come back soon and safely before scurrying outside.

 

Even though the howling wind and skin-cutting hail take a toll on him and slow down his way back home, he is happy. He managed to buy some lamb from a kindhearted farmer. He’s seen those sheep—thin, grey, with dirty fleece and droopy eyes. It’s a wonder their livestock even survives this eternal winter, it’s a magical trick that their herds grow on the yellow imported grass, it’s a miracle that almost all their cattle and fowl succeeded at adapting to the never-ending cold, surviving just for humans to feast on.

But Hyungwon is grateful—the two wolves he became so attached to won’t perish into the hard, frozen soil because of starvation. And he can be proud of himself, even just a little bit.

Stepping into his small meadow, he smiles at the yellow lights in the windows of his house. He brings Raven to the stable, treats him for the good work, cleans him. When Hyungwon was little, when the summer wasn’t erased from their gruesome land, he used to ride an old stallion to the farm that was built nearby, in the now snow-swept hills. The old stallion, Moonlight, died when the winter took over. The farm was full of various animals, the owners even had a funny grey donkey and glorious colourful peacocks. When the curse struck the country, the farm disappeared. Hyungwon never stopped making guesses on what happened. He strongly believed it was the King’s men that destroyed the territory and took the dying stock with then to feed the greedy Aran; he blamed the goblins, blamed the snowstorm, blamed his own father too, but never received an answer to the mystery. His brothers joked that the wolves inhabited their forest, tearing their cattle and preying on the bones of their dead horses. They told him scary stories that were never true, because Hyungwon knew the truth about the wolves of the Summerfall Mountains and never believed a word their brothers said. In the end of the day, he came to the conclusion that no other than the hunters slaughtered the innocent farmers and split their livestock between their bloodthirsty families.

Rubbing his mittens-clad hands together, Hyungwon hurries back inside the house. Stomping his boots to shake off the snow, he suddenly stops his leg mid-air as he smells something out of ordinary, something he knows he hasn’t opened since he brought the two boys to his home. Sweet aroma waltzes into his nostrils, a pleasant mix of lavender, rosewood and jasmine, spreading along the walls from the closed door of his bedroom. Hyungwon takes off his shoes as quietly as he can, worried but curious eyes fixed on the wooden door.

He tiptoes, creeping towards it like a thief. Holding his breath, he lightly presses his fingers to the surface, leaning in with one ear to listen to noises inside. Soft creaks and deaf thumps, like there is a continuous but slow movement on his bed. He hears hitching breaths and taps on the damp skin, he hears gentle gasps and low whispers, indecipherable, intimate. With a racing heartbeat, he bends lower, eyes on the same level as the hourglass-shaped keyhole. He slowly moves closer and closer, peeking, images becoming clearer and clearer.

Through the tiny hole Hyungwon distinguishes Minhyuk and Changkyun on his bed, facing each other, bare and exposed, moving in strange unison. Minhyuk is sitting on his knees with the other boy’s legs wrapped around his waist and arms around his shoulders, faces so, so close, lips almost touching. Sweat gathers on Changkyun’s forehead and neck, and Minhyuk presses his nose to his skin, breathing in, eyes hazy and glistening. Changkyun closes his lids and opens his mouth in a soft gasp and a silent whine when the older slides in slowly again, his short bony fingers scrape along the tanned back, his teeth settle on his lower lip.

Hyungwon doesn’t breathe. There is only a loud thudding of his heart in his temples, pulse increasing with every second. Then Minhyuk kisses Changkyun, leisurely, like he has all the time in the world, tenderly, like the other boy holds all his love in his tiny body, sensually, like he’s been meaning to do this for longer than either of them can imagine.

Putting a hand over his mouth, Hyungwon quickly straightens, gleaming eyes staring at the wooden surface for a moment, gathering his thoughts, before he quietly retrieves to his father’s bedroom. He hides behind the door right when a breathy moan seeps through the cracks, shooting right to his galloping heart and pulsating temples.

There is a spilled bottle of oil on the floor of his bedroom.

 

Hyungwon, as if on some unknown instincts, cherishes every moment spent with the two wolf boys.

And every day his feelings change.

There’s a strange flutter in his heart whenever he wakes up every night because of the rustle of his bed sheets and weight on both sides of the thin mattress. There is an unusual relief to his mind whenever he catches Minhyuk sneakily take Changkyun’s hands in his under the table, or when his eyes start to shine as he brings a spoon to the younger boy’s mouth and coos affectionately, or when he leaves a light lingering kiss on the scar on his shoulder as they change their night robes to warm clothing. To Hyungwon, it’s a relief, and he doesn’t dare say why out loud just yet.

He cherishes the times they go to the faraway meadow with Minhyuk at night, when the sky is nearly clear enough to see the lonely moon and the playful stars, and they settle down on the snow and talk. About the Dragon, and the King, about their childhood. Hyungwon listens, and the more he does, the more he moves just a little bit closer to press his clothed shoulder to Minhyuk’s and freeze in a moment just like that, sitting side by side. To Hyungwon, it’s deeply precious. To Minhyuk, it’s nothing short of life-changing.

He finds himself in desperate need of human warmth.

And humans are not supposed to be warm.

Sometimes, the ever quiet Changkyun is more eloquent than the other wolf. He cleans the bowls, teasingly nudging Hyungwon’s side and smiling. He nitpicks and grinds leaves from peculiar plants with mortar and pestle when the human boy asks him to and listens attentively to the other’s tricky explanations on botany, on uses of herbs in poisons and medicine, on how to make them. Even though he isn’t as curious in the subject, he takes pleasure in being Hyungwon’s company for when he needs to talk. Changkyun answers his questions with smiles and glances, draws stickmen on papers as scenarios from their life and embraces the human boy whenever he wants, as he wants.

Hyungwon realises a little too belatedly that the wolves’ hands are soft, dry and warm, and that they both possess inexplicable fabled beauty that Hyungwon has never heard any creatures to have. He thinks that humans lie about the most precious things.

The belated comes when they are having supper one calm evening. When, in the middle of a board game, Minhyuk grows tense and perks up, smelling something unfamiliar and dangerous outside of the house. When Changkyun hides his hands in the long sleeves of the shirt he is wearing and hunches, eyes worried and unrecognisably meek, scarily so. When barks and thumps break the everlasting silence of his meadow and the horses neigh in the stable. When a sudden thud of the heavy front door makes Hyungwon whip his head in absolute confusion, and his heart sinks down like a boulder when his father lets the cold breeze inside the house, freezing his body and mind with fear.

He forgot the day his family comes back home.

His father, tall and wide and covered in a bulky furry parka, slams the door shut and stomps his feet to shake the snow off. When he turns around, it is to see three still boys, his terrified son and two unfamiliar, suspicious faces.

Hyungwon jumps out of the chair in a blink of an eye. “Father!” He exclaims in Nimlam, standing in front of the table almost defensively, as if to hide the two wolves. “I’m so sorry for the chaos, I didn’t expect you to come back so early, I put away food I was going to prepare for you for later—” He rambles in the tongue he hasn’t used in what feels like years, before the entered man cuts him short.

“Who are they?” His piercing eyes stare right at the tensed Minhyuk and still Changkyun, who lowered his head as soon as he heard the enemy’s words resound in the house he grew to love. What Hyungwon’s father doesn’t see are white knuckles of the older wolf as he squeezes a fork in his hand under the table, nearly shaking with rage at the flowing and yet such harsh words leaving the humans’ mouths.

Hyungwon swallows thickly, audibly for the two boys to sense his nervousness, and yet he stands strong, unwavering in front of his father’s menacing figure. “This is Seunghyuk and Sankyun, they are from Gobelor. While you were away, a fire broke out in the orphanage.” He lies and explains, gestures calm and casual, believable. Only the wolves can hear the insane heartbeat in his chest. “They ran away but had nowhere to go, so they hid in the forest. I found them on the verge of starvation when I went for a stroll with Raven. Father, you know me. I couldn’t just leave innocent children for wild bears to feast on.” Hyungwon curves his eyebrows and shakes his head, silently pleading his father to believe him.

The man stands still for a few moments. Then he looks down and gets out of his snow-covered boots, takes off his parka and walks to the fireplace, taking a pitcher and drinking right from it. He nods towards the two boys behind his son. “How old are you?”

Another rush of panic runs down Hyungwon’s body as he realises that they don’t speak Nimlam, but Minhyuk opens his mouth, muttering perfectly sensical words. “Six… teen.” He lies in a low raspy voice, and the human boy resists a deep sigh of relief as the older wolf saves them another day. The orphanage only keeps the children in until they are seventeen, and the human boy is well impressed with Minhyuk’s inhumanly good memory. He remembers a lot of things Hyungwon tells him.

“And you?” His father nods at hunched Changkyun, who hasn’t moved since the head of the family came in.

“He’s mute.” Hyungwon quickly cuts in, and the younger boy raises his head, nodding ever so slightly, barely visibly. “He doesn’t speak, at all. Was mutilated as a kid. Someone shoved a heated wax candle down his throat, that’s what Seunghyuk told me.” Hyungwon lies and lies, quick mind working and tongue clicking words together like a woodpecker.

His father huffs throw his nose and turns around to put more wood into the fireplace with an unrecognisable expression. He could be pleased, he could be mad but forgiving his son’s stupidity, or he could be planning a murder.

The boys don’t get a moment to breathe when the front door slams open again and his two older brothers barge in, snickering about something. They immediately stop as soon as they spot strangers in their house.

“Who in damnation is that?” The younger of the two, Jaewon, asks. Hyungwon sighs, closes his eyes for a quick moment and gets ready to retell the same story he told his father. “Is that my shirt?” He moves to the table without taking off his dirtied boots, and Hyungwon instinctively steps in front of him to protect the other boys.

“I promise they will give them back.” He frowns and looks up, more than ever cursing the transcendent powers that made his brothers grow so much taller than him. And he was very well-equipped with height himself. “I ran out of clothes, I couldn’t just let them wear the same filthy rags they were in, you have to understand me.” Hyungwon fights and doesn’t waver his gaze, sternly stepping up to his older brother, to his constant unpleasant grimace, to his blood-sprayed bitter smell. Only the two wolves can see the nervous fidgeting of his fingers behind his back.

“Enough, let Hyungwon have a company.” The voice of the oldest brother, Taewon, rumbles like thunder, and he walks heavily to their shared bedroom, unceremoniously waving a good night to the rest of the family members.

“What are you going to do with them later?” His father asks, taking out a butcher knife to slice a chunk of meat Hyungwon cooked earlier but couldn’t finish. Minhyuk and Changkyun grew alarmingly quiet, as if breathless.

“I’ll get them to the Kingdom, someone must want to take them into labour, so it won’t be a problem.” The human boy explains, easily like it was his plan all along. He can pat himself on the shoulder later for the bravery he demonstrated the past minutes.

His father huffs around the food in his mouth. “The Kingdom is only missing a couple of freaks in their count.” He mumbles and swallows thickly, a trail of juice sliding down his chin. He wipes it with his sleeve and turns around, not sparing the three boys another glance. His father and Jaewon leave to their respective rooms.

The three boys release a deep relieved exhale in unison. Hyungwon puts a palm to his chest, trying to calm his heartbeat, trying to figure out a way out of this situation. Minhyuk stands up abruptly, making the chair screech against the floor, and rushes to Hyungwon’s bedroom, barely resisting slamming the door. Changkyun hurries after him with a worried glance towards the human boy.

Hyungwon finds his keys and locks the bedroom door behind him, hesitating on one place, unsure of whether he can approach a crazed Minhyuk on his bed. But against all expectations and fears, the older wolf doesn’t look furious or dangerous. There is an invisible dark cloud over his head and weight on his shoulders, and his black eyes are gleaming sickly, but his hunched back and sucked in cheeks only show the strength with which he tries so hard not to cry. He is hopeless, and Hyungwon has never seen a hopeless Minhyuk before. Changkyun has his arm around him, silent words of reassurance keeping him together.

The human boy crouches in front of the bed, tries to catch Minhyuk’s dark gaze. “You speak the White tongue?” The familiar sounds of their language bring comfort to the room, and Minhyuk closes his eyes for a second, exhaling.

“Understand… speak not.” He whispers in Nimlam, tasting detested words on his tongue.

Hyungwon smiles and shuffles closer, taking the other’s warm hand into his. “We will figure out what we do. I will never let anyone harm you.”

Minhyuk finally looks at him, with a slight glint of hope in his black irises. “Not even your family?”

The human boy shakes his head with confidence, standing right by his decision. “Not even my family.”

And the two wolves know they can trust him. Minhyuk raises the corners of his mouth as the thought finally forms in his head. He trusts a human. He trusts a human as much as he trusts his clan, with his life. He puts his second palm on Hyungwon’s. “Thank you.” And even though he promised himself to never feel grateful to a human being, he never stopped giving his gratitude to the boy in front of him. He is special, and after the time they spent together, he sees more and more reasons why.

 

They don’t survive with the three hunters in the house for long.

The illusion of safety under Hyungwon’s wing doesn’t last. Even when the older members of the family leave in the morning to hunt and come back late in the evening for food and sleep, it doesn’t last. Even when Hyungwon lies and lies, defends Minhyuk’s lack of knowledge in their tongue—he isn’t clever, he is just a fool; explains Changkyun’s curiously sharp teeth—they are badly chipped, he bites solid objects a lot; creates an act to hide all the little details his father’s hunting senses always catch on—orphanage isn’t a good place, they don’t take care of children there; even then, the illusion of safety doesn’t last long.

They have supper later than usual, and Jaewon finds them around the table when he enters the house and brings the smell of blood and wind inside. Minhyuk tenses immediately, but Hyungwon is the first to start speaking, stealing the attention away.

“I’m sorry, we’ll leave soon, we were cleaning a pile of snow in front of the stable, so we’re having food late.” He blurts in one breath and starts gathering their half-finished bowls and cutlery. His brother huffs with a strange look on his face, his top lip, curvy just like Hyungwon’s, rises in a condescending grin.

“Don’t hurry, the poor little orphans must be hungry,” he takes off his parka and boots, leans his spear against the wall, “like animals, they have huge stomachs.”

Blood in Minhyuk’s veins freezes, and he looks down at the table, trying to isolate himself from this scene, trying to erase this man’s existence from this room. The word ‘animal’ should never have come out of his mouth.

“What are you talking about,” Hyungwon laughs, “if only you knew how little food they have in Gobelor. They can’t fit a whole meal.” He speaks with a little joke in his voice, almost as condescending as his brother’s. And although he does it to protect the two boys, Minhyuk feels a little sting—if it were any other situation, he would not hesitate to rip Hyungwon’s throat open.

“Ah, you’re right.” Jaewon almost smiles, almost agrees with the younger boy. Then he takes slow leisurely steps towards the table. Minhyuk and Changkyun look up at him, black eyes gleaming with defence and irritation, and Hyungwon freezes by the fireplace, dirty bowls in hands. “But why does it smell so much like a wet dog in here?”

Before Minhyuk could jump on his feet, growling and feeling his sharpening teeth grazing his tongue, Hyungwon slides between the tall man and the table, raising his chin to match his height. “Stop intimidating them. We’re departing to the kingdom soon, you don’t have to keep chasing us away.” He says sternly, unwavering from the patronising gaze of the narrow-hooded eyes.

Jaewon steps away, puts one of his legs behind the other and performs a curtsy, bowing his head and tugging his shirt to the side. “As you wish, princess.”

Hyungwon shuts his eyes and swallows, curling his hands into fists to prevent the growing furious trembling in his hands. If he could, he would have broken his brother’s jaw a long time ago.

The three boys escape to Hyungwon’s bedroom before either of them lets any of the building anger out. The human boy doesn’t smile. This alarms Minhyuk, and his own fury evaporates in the face of Hyungwon’s expression he has never seen before. It doesn’t seem right to see him unhappy, afraid, troubled, and most importantly, so outraged. Changkyun curls on the bed, knees to his chest and chin on the knees, eyes attentive, watching. Hyungwon drops on the floor and hides his face in his thighs, coiling into himself like a snail. It’s dark in the room, no candle is lit, only the light from the kitchen seeps under the door crack.

“I hate them,” Hyungwon murmurs, muffled, and hugs his legs tighter, exhaling a little shakily, as if calming down. Minhyuk crawls on the floor next to him, tentative hand lightly touching the thin back. He wants to say something but no words come out, no words of comfort, no words of encouragement, no words of bravery. He doesn’t know what to say when he himself is so full of flaming fury. A part of him whispers that it’s the fear he feels, simple idle fear, so inherent to humans and so foreign to wolves. A part of him whispers it’s the fear of losing what he found in the little stone cabin hidden in the woods.

Minhyuk and Changkyun manage to fall asleep eventually, pressed to each other close. Hyungwon would take the little space by the wall, feeling the warmth emanating off the boys’ skin but never reaching out for it, too shy to break the strange idyll. He would get under the same thin blanket every other night except tonight. Tonight, he is sitting on the bed slumped against the wall, curled so tightly into himself his feet don’t touch the spread-out legs of the boys in his bed.

He should have left his family home a long time ago. Ever since he was little, he dreamed of becoming a witch’s apprentice, live in the warm Summerfall woods and gather plants he has never seen before. He thought he would do well. But every time he packed his things to leave, he would come out of his room and catch his father and brother have their daily supper, drink their homemade wine, hold their cups with rough hands covered in frozen bites and bleeding scratches, laugh with their mouths full and dripping, and he would go back inside, thinking that he is more useful at home. And he would curse his feeble heart for not being able to see anyone in pain, even if pain has always been insignificant to his family of hunters.

He sighs deeply and tries to fall asleep, but his heart is hammering in his chest and his mind is racing beyond the human speed. Minhyuk senses it, the unwise worry in the air. He shuffles and sits up, hair messed up on the side of his head.

“Can’t sleep?” He asks in a husky whisper, rubbing his eyes.

Hyungwon’s mouth twitches in a light smile. “No.” Minhyuk shifts carefully to sit by his side, puts his head on the human boy’s shoulder and squeezes his hand between his legs and stomach. “You should sleep. Do not worry about me.” He hushes but lays his head on top of Minhyuk’s anyways, feeling his insides calming down with the familiar presence of the other boy.

“Humans domesticated wild wolves because they knew they were loyal to beings they cared about, be it one of theirs or a human. They sense anxiety. Why do you think your sledding dogs are so faithful? They had big-hearted ancestors.” Minhyuk murmurs in half-sleepy voice, rubbing his head against Hyungwon’s shoulder.

The other smiles wider. “Humans do not deserve your trust.”

The wolf hums absentmindedly. “You do.”

Hyungwon’s heart doesn’t manage to flutter with the softest sentiment, doesn’t manage to pump blood to his cheeks. Instead, it sinks in like a boulder when the door of his bedroom slams open and Taewon strolls in, disdainful look in his eyes glinting even in the dark. Changkyun wakes up with a jerk, buries into the sheets as Minhyuk scrambles to get close to him and Hyungwon hurries to stand up, so, so small against his terrifying brother.

“I knew it.” The man hushes, huffing through his nose. “I go to take food from the table when, suddenly, I hear some unknown chitter-chatter coming from your room.” He leans down slightly, just enough to match with the already tall, hardly-breathing Hyungwon. “The Draug tongue. The wolf nonsense.”

Hyungwon doesn’t move. He tries to breathe as panic and rage run through his entire body, both paralysing him and building something within him, a rush of power, something almost transcendent. Taewon throws a glance full of disgust and despise and hate towards the two boys hiding in the dark corner and pushes past Hyungwon with a heavy shoulder bump.

“I’m going to kill them barehanded.” He blurts out threateningly, moving fast, and before Minhyuk can feel a spasm of ferocity bursting in his veins, there is a scary shout. Hyungwon crashes into his brother and tackles him on the ground with the strength he has never showed before. With almost inhuman strength. He shouts, climbing on top of the other man before he is knocked down and hitting him in his chest, hard, with his fist, and Taewon wheezes, his face reddening almost immediately.

“Get outside!” Hyungwon snarls, turning his head around for one quick second. Minhyuk doesn’t realise when to move, not immediately. Veins on Hyungwon’s neck puff and his eyes glisten, his voice hardens like those of the hunters that prey in the valleys, and Changkyun nearly shudders.

Before the boy blows another hard hit to his brother’s jaw, strong, huge hands wrap around is throat and throw him on the ground. Hyungwon doesn’t stop shouting, kicks Taewon in his stomach and hips, scratches the bloated arms around him. When the man shouts back and hesitates, he turns them around again, clutching Taewon’s strong jaw and attempting to twist it. He screams for the two wolves to run again, and this time they listen, sprint out of the bedroom.

Hyungwon’s father and Jaewon fall out of their rooms, questioning looks on their faces. Seeing Minhyuk and Changkyun, they grimace in anger. They grab the spears that are always resting against the wall in the corner and take attacking positions. Minhyuk doesn’t reach the door, the old man is there before him. He shouts, the familiar call of the fonak, the rumbling thunder, sending terror and fury down the wolves’ spines. Just a second more, and they change right there, inside the damn house, right in front of the mankind they hate the most in the world.

Jaewon takes the first sharp move, aiming his spear right at Minhyuk’s stomach. He is just a step away. The wolf’s teeth sharpen, his eyes fill with familiar sting as they fill with burning amber, and before he almost plants himself onto the sharp weapon, an arrow pierces through Jaewon’s shoulder. He drops down with a mad cry. Blood flows out of his wound, rapidly.

They turn around. Hyungwon, standing in the doorway in front of the heaving lying brother, holds a bow in his straightened left hand, fingers of the other hand still stuck in the position after they pulled the string. He is panting. The wolves’ eyes widen, but a shout from behind instantly gets them back on guard and they dodge a spear from penetrating right through them. Hyungwon’s father almost bumps into the wall, but he is a hunter, he has sharpened senses, perfect coordination, and he attacks again.

Changkyun grabs the spear from the front, trembling with strength arms cracking the wood and firing eyes looking with some kind of crazed hate. The man slams forward, and the wood cracks. The shrill stone head falls on the floor.

Hyungwon’s arms wrap around his father’s neck in the next second, holding the man down. Minhyuk and Changkyun use the second to escape, jumping over the struggling and bleeding Jaewon on the floor.

“Bastard!” The man croaks out, his face flooding with blood and veins bulging on his chest and forehead. Hyungwon tumbles him on the floor, hits his head with a heavy leather quiver and runs towards the closing door, barely managing to slip into his boots.

Minhyuk and Changkyun stomp the ground in the meadow. It’s blindingly dark, only the orange light of the fireplace inside the house illuminating the snow by the opened door.

“I will get Raven, you change!” Hyungwon shouts a command and runs to the stable, so, so high on the energy in his body he doesn’t shiver in the freezing cold of the night. The dogs bark on him, jump on the stall door, almost breaking it. He finds a spare massive parka in the stable, throws it over himself with the bow and the quiver with arrows and hastily opens the stall with his horse. He has no time to prepare him. He throws a rope over the frightened stallion’s neck and pulls him out. “Please, please, Raven, please, let’s go.” He whispers desperately, hearing threatening roars from the outside.

He bangs the stable doors open, jumps on the Raven’s bare back. “Go!” He shouts and hits his belly with all his might, sending the horse into a scared run. In front of the house, two wolves growl and snarl at Hyungwon’s father in the doorway, feet in the snow and holding a bow. But he doesn’t shoot first. Hyungwon does, sending an arrow his way, hitting right into his side, forcing the man to groan in pain and stutter, dropping his position.

“Run!” Hyungwon shouts as Raven carries him across the meadow. He is holding up with his legs, keeping his shooting posture straight and solid, arrow aimed directly at Jaewon, scrambling to his feet with the help of the wall. He takes his father’s bow and shoots, missing. Minhyuk and Changkyun run faster than a hunter’s arrow whistling in the night.

They vanish in the black lifeless forest, two wolves and one human boy on a horse. Far, far away from the house he once called his own, away from the people he hurt in order to save much, much more feral creations. Beasts that are so much more human than the men he considered family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lossoth - snowmen
> 
> i never mentioned changhyuks age here yet so just for the tick, they're about nineteen-twenty
> 
> seems like its the end for soft wolfy times, or is it?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im really sorry for the short chapter but consider it a bridge between important events!!
> 
> again thank you everyone for reading and kudos and comments are as always very appreciated! i read them all even though i don't reply (to keep the count how it is) but im really grateful to every single one!!

Past the dark ghostly forest, past the meek nocturnal life and past everything Hyungwon called his home, the three boys wind up in a grey, thick fog of snow.

The storm weakens their bones, scrapes their skin, sheds their hair. Hyungwon holds onto Raven as he pushes through the invisible wall that drags him back, curls into his soaking parka and tries to breathe, cold in, warmth out, strength in, weakness out. Minhyuk and Changkyun run, feet almost burying in the ruthless layers of icy snow and colourful eyes dull and tired, wet from the merciless wind that blows them back to the place they escape for their life.

When the fog dissipates and the wind lies low, the wolves nearly tumble onto the white piles, tongues out and panting, exhausted. But they keep on running, as if chased. Raven foams, huffs, slowing the stomping gallop to wide trot, head hung low. Hyungwon doesn’t move. His head is hidden under the big hood, his back is hunched and his legs flail by the horse’s sides, barely pressing to the belly to keep himself on Raven’s back. Minhyuk fights against his weakness and runs by the human’s side, breathing out with loud rasps, to check if Hyungwon can hear him.

The human boy twitches and raises his head lethargically, almost out of any strength in his body. His eyes are puffy and hooded unevenly, red – he accidentally passed out. He didn’t sleep, and they have been running for god knows how long. It could be a few hours, or it could be half a day, or it could be a whole day. But Hyungwon smiles lightly, unchangeably strong-spirited, like he has always been, and releases a meek whisper into the white nothing, knowing that the wolves will hear it all. Not much left until they reach the kingdom.

Morning has settled upon the land, illuminating the earth in gloomy white light, not a trace of sunshine in the ever-clouded sky.

The valley is vast, blindingly wide and seemingly unending. The high and mighty Goblin Mountains surround it, a protective wall around them. The Great Dragon sleeps in his cave, above everything and everyone, uncaring and untroubled, ignorant to their struggles. Minhyuk and Changkyun pace across the land, on guard despite the feebleness, although there is not a soul in sight. They surround Hyungwon’s hunched form from both sides, glancing at him, listening to his faded breathing. He passed out again. His frozen hands barely hold on to the rope around Raven’s neck.

Soon enough, the valley grows into rocky steep hills. Black soil peeks from under sharp edges where the snow doesn’t lay, colouring the plain whiteness in dark splashes, finally indicating their path. From the top of the cliff, they can see a little forest, and behind it stands majestically the Kingdom of Losdór, a grand fortressed castle towering over the land.

Coming down the steep isn’t easy for Hyungwon on a horse. With the wolves’ guide, they scramble to the bottom and take a deep breath, entering the pine woods. No creatures inhabit the forest, no gremlins hide in their grottos and no bats and squirrels reside on the long branches. Humans have chased them all, killed some, captured the others. Occasional hammered-down tree barks decay among newly grown pines. This forest has long been annihilated.

It's a miracle they haven’t met a single lumberman or a hunter. Reaching the end of the forest, Hyungwon stops in the shadows, looks out into the widespread plain in front of them, observes the faraway fortress of the kingdom. He reaches into the big pockets of the parka, and something clinks. He gets out a few shining coins on his palm, sighs in relief.

“Stay here. I will quickly run and buy you clothes.” His voice is weak, barely an order, but Minhyuk and Changkyun listen, stepping further back into the woods. The wall is far. Hyungwon will have to gallop fast. He can only hope he makes it in time before the market closes. Sellers in the kingdom aren’t as nice as the poor people of Gobelor.

Minhyuk and Changkyun patiently wait for Hyungwon’s decreasing figure to disappear in the horizon, right in the scenery of the majestic human kingdom. Exhausted beyond their limit, they fall into the ruffled snow, deep enough to hide them from a human’s sight.

_Hungry._

It's a pitiful scenario—lying on his side, legs lifelessly extended in front of him, Changkyun’s stomach grumbles, loud as a thunder. Minhyuk huffs.

_Bet there are no birds in the forest._

Changkyun weakly groan-whines, shifting to lie on his belly, big wolf head on his front legs, yellow eyes sad and empty.

_I could eat a sewer rat, this is how hungry I am._

Minhyuk resorts to lying on the cold ground quietly, dealing with hunger by erasing himself from the physical world. Maybe he can sleep before Hyungwon comes back.

A sudden rustle behind them makes Changkyun jump up with a jerk. He snarls and gets into defensive position, looking into the empty pine forest. Minhyuk doesn’t bulge, apathetic even to the smell of a tiny prey. He is too exhausted to hunt. He is surprised, however, when in a moment, the younger wolf rushes into the woods, leaving traces of rumpled snow and a sound of cracking branches behind him. For a minute, it’s blissfully quiet.

Until Changkyun comes back and throws a dead white rabbit in front of Minhyuk’s peaceful face. If he could, he would smile and hug the other wolf with a pat on the head, but instead he can only rise on his legs and nuzzle into Changkyun’s neck, lick over his nose and eyes, rub their heads against each other. They tear the rabbit open together, tasting a raw animal for the first time in weeks.

Hyungwon comes back when the sky starts to grow grey. His eyes freeze on a splashed pool of blood on the snow, shift to Minhyuk’s and Changkyun’s dirtied mouths, fur around the muzzle painted in dark maroon, and sighs with a strange sort of resignation. He is wearing a long black cloak over the parka and his hands are clad in black leather gloves.

“I brought clothes.” He throws a bag on the ground, and Minhyuk quickly picks it up with his teeth, running deeper into the woods to hide and change.

The two boys come out of the shadows, civil in their new capital-appropriate leather breeches and tall riding boots and wrapped in long hooded cloaks. Hyungwon musters a smile, but it’s just a weak copy of his usual sun-glowed grins and joyful laughs. He is exhausted, and Minhyuk unconsciously skips to his side to help him get back on the horse.

“No, it is all right. I will walk with you.” He tries to reassure, but lightly stumbles backwards the moment the words leave his mouth. Changkyun puts an arm around his shoulder and doesn’t let go, making sure the human boy is stable on his feet. Hyungwon exhales, closes his eyes, and when he gathers all the remaining strength he has, lifts the corners of his mouth in a grateful gesture. Changkyun is observing him with a serious expression, a little worried, a little comforting. There is a smudge of blood on his chin, and Hyungwon licks his thumb and rubs it off, although in vain. It’s dried.

When the two bend down to gather some snow and scrub dirt off their faces, Hyungwon’s eyes catch on a small pendant hanging off Changkyun’s neck, a stone, red and raw and sparkling even in the gloomy weather. He reaches for it, mouth opening in surprise. “How did you manage to keep it?” He holds the garnet he once gave the younger boy on the tips of his fingers. And although exhausted beyond belief, a fluttering in his heart resumes, as if it’s the only thing it is ever meant to do.

“The string doesn’t rip easily.” Minhyuk explains and smiles lightly. Then he unceremoniously takes it off Changkyun’s neck and puts it on Hyungwon’s, absolutely sure in his doings. “Here. You need some strength right now.”

Hyungwon clutches the little stone in his fist, stupidly hoping for the folk stories to be true at least this once. Just this day, just this miserable hour.

They walk to the kingdom through the empty valley. The human boy tries to stay awake, taps a starved Raven on the belly to make him move steadily, holds onto the rope like it’s his only way to survival. The bow and arrows stubbornly hang off his shoulder, stone arrowheads clicking at the slightest flutter of the wind. Minhyuk is cautious of the weapon. And maybe it is because he, like Hyungwon and Raven, is also running out of stamina, maybe the unpleasant sting in his legs distracts him, maybe he has too much trust in the human boy, but he doesn’t open his mouth to protest. A part of him is grateful, the biggest part of him. Another part of him feels betrayed, a how reasonably so. Hyungwon said he never hunted. And yet, despite being as innocent and fragile as a dainty white-tailed fawn, he spilled the blood of his family with a hunter’s precision, reckless and sharp shot still stuck in Minhyuk’s mind like a nightmare.

A nightmare that is so easily and so, so stupidly forgotten with one glance on the human boy’s slanted position on the horse, on his hooded hollow eyes and sunken cheeks. And seeing him so miserable, Minhyuk wants nothing more but to have him in his arms.

They get to the kingdom before the sky turns dark. Pushing past the poorer settlements outside of the massive fortress, Minhyuk and Changkyun look around wearily, which Hyungwon had to stop once they approached the tall gates. Armoured knights are guarding them all days and all nights round, looking out for beggars and thieves. The three boys walk past them with ease—Hyungwon as an honorary hunter, and the two wolves as civil young men. And no one ever questions how they covered the distance to the kingdom of Losdór without their respective horses.

It's vast, the kingdom, lying flat and spreading right until the Goblin Mountains, the highest and the mightiest mountains in the country. Hyungwon has never seen what’s on the other side of them; he doesn’t think he ever will.

The biggest part of the capital is the marketplace, reaching as far as the second wall guarding the King’s castle. Hyungwon jumps off Raven and takes the rope tightly, carefully leading the stallion along wagons and carts and stands with foods and goods. A butcher is sharpening his knife, an old lady creaks about her magical charms, a bunch of young boys runs around with scarfs and gloves, pushing them into strangers’ hands and asking money in exchange for them. Minhyuk and Changkyun gaze around, tensed, hoods covering their heads and throwing shadows over their faces. Hyungwon keeps his expression calm, almost unwelcoming. The less people are around him, the less attention they pay to the two wolves; the less Raven gets nervous.

His stomach is growling, his throat is dry and his eyelids almost stick together, but he holds himself straight, looking in front of him and focusing on the goal he must achieve. Find a shelter for him and the two strayed away boys.

A sudden bark scares not only him but Minhyuk and Changkyun too. A dog, thankfully on a tight leash, roars on the wolves, snarls, and a heavy middle-aged man has to slap the creature on a head with a rolled-up paper.

“Just go,” Hyungwon whispers and nudges the two boys to continue walking. The dog grumbles lowly in its throat, and Minhyuk barely resists the urge to snarl back. Changkyun hisses as they walk past the stand, and the dog barks on last time. Minhyuk lightly slaps the younger boy on the back of his head to make him behave appropriately.

Hyungwon finds an affordable inn when the sky turns dark. Leaving Raven outside by the hay stalls, they enter a three-storey stone house, smell of warmth and wine immediately surrounding them. A man behind the counter looks over the three boys sceptically, top lip curved and eyebrows furrowed, but gathers the coins Hyungwon put on the table. His eyes are stern, red from exhaustion, hollow from all the thoughts that wouldn’t leave his head. The owner of the inn brings them to the second floor, opens one of the numerous doors and lets the boys into the chamber, handing the key to Hyungwon. There are two separate beds, narrow, creaky, but he has no rights no complain. He just wants to lie down and deepen into long, long slumber.

Diagonally to his wishes, he takes off his parka and lays the bow and arrows on the table, having other duties to do first. “I will ask the owner for some food.” He mumbles into the other boys’ vague direction and leaves the chamber. Having paid more than a usual one-night guest, he asks a cook for three portions of meat and tells a servant to bring it to them, mustering a polite smile and making up a story about his long-long journey. When the lady agrees with a kind smile, he thinks that his charms have a little bit of magical attributes to them.

Back in the chamber, Minhyuk and Changkyun explore the room for any forgotten artefacts, a book, or a paper and a quill, or dropped coins. When Hyungwon comes in, they surprisingly quiet down. He sighs, walking to the bed closest to the door and lying down, unfocused eyes staring at the boring wooden ceiling. Minhyuk sits on the edge of the other bed, parallel to Hyungwon’s, and it creaks under his weight.

“You know how to shoot.” The older wolf boy mentions quietly and looks down on his hands that are resting on his knees, apologetic about the timing of his interrogation. He just needs to feel safe.

Hyungwon closes his eyes, swallowing. He thinks that when he was still just a little boy, his father truly loved him as his son. “My father taught me when I was young. I never shot a living being. My brothers and I just aimed at tree barks and played a game of who collects the most arrows. I never won, not a single time.” The human boy recollects, diving back into the green tall forest, blooming and alive, shielded by a plush crown of leaves and warm under the ever-shining sun. He opens his eyes to stop himself from falling asleep.

A knock on the door makes Minhyuk and Changkyun perk up and sniff excitedly, aroma of freshly cooked meat reaching their nostrils through the wall. Hyungwon gets up to open the door, takes a wooden tray with three covered plates and puts it on the table. The two wolf boys surround it immediately, eyes glinting with hunger and anticipation. Hyungwon’s stomach grumbles involuntarily. He hasn’t eaten since the previous night.

They consume their meals mostly in silence, no one’s raising their voice. Occasional hums and chews and chomps come from Minhyuk and Changkyun, carelessly taking big bites and storing all meat in their cheeks, like hungry little children. Hyungwon finds it relieving—even though he can barely lift a fork to his mouth, he is happy the other two haven’t lost their usual enthusiasm about food.

He collects the empty plates and leaves them outside their chamber, hopes for the extra gold coins privilege to spread on silent service. He tumbles on his bed, not finding any strength to take off his drenched breeches and dirty shirt, covers himself with a heavy duvet with a stag hide on top of it and turns to the side, away from the other bed. 

Minhyuk blows the candles, bringing peace and quiet along with the dark. He, unlike the human boy, remembers what he was taught as a child and takes off his clothes, staying in Hyungwon’s undergarments he is already so used to wearing. Changkyun follows him, drops on the bed. He kicks the disgusting fur hide on the floor, leaves just enough space for the other boy to fit in and accepts him into his embrace, hiding them under the duvet. 

It is strangely tense, so different to all times the boys fell asleep together in Hyungwon’s small cosy bedroom. Minhyuk rises on his elbow. 

“Good night,” he whispers into the dark that has never obstructed his vision. His human eyes can see a small breathing lump on the neighbouring bed, a tuft of messy black hair spreading on a puffy pillow, a slight nod of the same black-haired head. 

“Good night.” Hyungwon mumbles barely audibly and pulls the covers further over himself. A small shiver gets caught by the careful gaze of Minhyuk’s eyes. He lies back down and hugs Changkyun tight, the younger boy’s face burying in his warm neck and arms lying on his waist, caressing the skin lightly-lightly, with the tips of his slightly grown nails.

They dive into deep black silence, only breathing filling the otherwise void room. Changkyun doesn’t stop the light movements of his fingers, pre-dreamily sliding along the dip of Minhyuk’s waist, legs shuffling for a more comfortable position, nose pressing closer to the familiar skin. It has always given him peace, the familiarity. Minhyuk mindlessly plays with the other’s hair at the back of his head. Their chests rise rhythmically against each other, calm, secure. 

And even though the two wolves can sense others’ state of being, Hyungwon is just a human, limited, simple, and so he sniffs when he thinks the two boys have already fallen asleep, fooled by their silent peaceful motionlessness. 

He sniffs and exhales shakily, the duvet-covered lump of his body trembling with the sound. He buries his face into the sheets and breathes in, although not fully, blocked nose not allowing him to inhale. He breathes and breathes, through his mouth, before a muffled cry escapes into the darkness, so quiet and yet so, so fervent. Faint tears soak into the pillow. And he tries so, so hard to stop all the pain that’s piled up within him. Within his mere human heart, protected by only thin fragile bones. 

He doesn’t immediately register the figure in front of his bed, only weakly gasping from fright when Minhyuk raises the duvet enough to let himself under it, enough to fit on the single bed next to the crying boy. Hyungwon plants his face into the covers in embarrassment at being found, doesn’t let the other boy see him, but even rough shakes of his head don’t free him from big warm palms capturing his cheeks and turning his face up to look at him. 

Minhyuk’s thumb caresses his skin, wipes the remaining traces of tears on his temples. And he sees the wet glint of his eyes in the dark as clear as the day, distinguishes the unspoken confessions of his fears and worries. Hyungwon doesn’t stop shaking from the cold perceptible only to him, twitches at the sudden pair of arms snaking around his waist and a warm nose poking the back of his neck. Warm feet press to his icy ones, warm chest finds his shivering shoulders, and Changkyun’s whole warm body engulfs the cold for him, exchanges it for comfort, calms him down. Minhyuk doesn’t let him look away, holds Hyungwon’s face in his palms.

And the genuine gaze of Minhyuk’s gentle eyes is all Hyungwon knows in the moment before they close and become too much, surrounding his vision from all sides. His lips, so impossibly warm and soft and dry, press to the human boy’s mouth and steal all his senses. In a fleeting second, all of Hyungwon’s burdens disappear, and his heartbeat speeds up, gallops within his chest, threatening to break the glass-made ribcage. 

Hyungwon’s eyes are open, his gleaming irises shaking with the inability to let go of the source of warmth in front of him, too afraid of the blackness that surrounds him otherwise. Minhyuk kisses him tenderly, a faint touch his lips, almost ephemeral. He feels a breezy stroke on the bulging bone at the back of his neck, another soft pair of lips pressing to his skin, leaving barely traceable touches. And yet his skin is burning, flames of aches and turmoils melting off the blizzard of the outside world, swallowing the entire chamber in red sizzling fire, and his whole body with it. 

The time has stopped, the voices in his head have stopped, the tears have stopped, and thousands and thousands of images of the two boys in his bed flooded his vision at once, their smiles and their laughs, their sharp observing eyes and scowls, their inhumanly warm hands and lingering kisses they shared. Shared between each other, leaving nothing but a ghostly memory for Hyungwon himself. 

There has always been a wall.

And Hyungwon, just a mere human boy Hyungwon, has always taken it as a given. 

He doesn’t know how much time has passed since Minhyuk imprinted the gentle touch of his lips on Hyungwon’s forever, how many heartbeats he skipped before his eyelids finally close and he lets the warm darkness take over. His cheeks are burning from the hot palms cupping his face, and the hot breath from the boy behind him tickles the back of his neck, and suddenly, the heavy duvet is too hot, the woollen breeches are too hot, the single bed is too hot. It’s hard to breathe. And Minhyuk’s tentatively braving kiss doesn’t let him catch any air into his lungs. 

He is so, so warm. Heat radiating off the wolves’ bodies thaws him down to the bones and deeper, to his heart. 

And even though it is hammering in his chest, threatening to crash his ribcage and split in two, Hyungwon is calmed. Tears don’t escape through his closed lids, and his hands, clasping a pile of sheets before, hesitantly move to Minhyuk’s wrist, fingers resting around it almost weightlessly. The other boy breathes in and nods his head down ever so slightly, just enough to softly take Hyungwon’s lower lip between his, and the pulsating thought of his abrupt tranquility finally materialises in his head. 

He is free.

His family will not hunt him down, not in the state he left them in. And so Hyungwon kisses back, slowly, barely pressing his mouth to the other boy’s, as if feeling the darkness he allowed himself to dive into. They move together, steadily, just light touches of the dry lips that turn more palpable with each velvety press, breaths in, breaths out, whispering kisses barely audible in the absolute silence. 

Minhyuk moves away, leaving just a mere inch between their mouths. Hyungwon feels his hot breath against his lips but doesn’t open his eyes, too scared, too meek, too easy to break with one vague blurry gaze that could never show any signs of menace anymore. Not to Hyungwon anyways. 

A pair of arms that has been resting peacefully around his waist, disappears, immediately moving to his shoulders, shifting him on his back; to his neck, turning his head in the opposite direction; to his face, holding him tight. Hyungwon melts into the darkness, follows her lead, stills his breathing and resumes it again when he feels another hot exhale on his skin. Changkyun, the ever so quiet Changkyun, kisses him with more eloquence than any words could possess. His thin lips cover Hyungwon’s mouth fully, as if grasping for something within him, as if stealing the air from his lungs. He touches him lightly at first, dampen lips leaving trace of warmth, before he kisses faster, although just as gently. 

Peck after another, tangible, swift and yet still so soft, not rushed, like they have all the time in the world. Minhyuk embraces Hyungwon in his arms, tip of his nose sliding along the skin of his neck and fingers tugging at the duvet, at the human boy’s shirt, at Changkyun’s wrist, almost terrified of slipping out of this moment like Hyungwon himself fears it. 

Changkyun stops moving and softly breathes against his mouth, lips barely detached from the other boy’s. Hyungwon’s lids flutter, unwilling to let the darkness dissipate and see familiar thin lips, familiar bump on a long nose and familiar black eyes, sharp and bold and observing, always saying more than words ever could. And so he looks up, finding what he once dreamed of seeing. Even in the void darkness of the chamber, Changkyun’s eyes sparkle, with subtle care and faint affection, clouded with sleep and tiredness and yet so clear, speaking to Hyungwon. And he knows the younger boy cares for him, always knew. 

But he also knows he cares for the wolves more, somehow beyond what he thinks he can explain. He is silent, deaf and mute in his emotions, only keeping it to himself and refusing to let it go. Even if the others’ lips drag it out - unknowingly, gently, but to Hyungwon, as if asking. And he doesn’t want to pillage the already heavenly granted vows that were never meant for him. 

Diagonally to Hyungwon’s newly building fears, Changkyun turns him towards himself and embraces him around his shoulders, warm firm chest to his bones of glass, shattering after every hammer of his heart. Minhyuk leans from behind, another big wolf heart letting him know it’s also beating for him as he sneaks his arms around Hyungwon’s waist and presses himself close.

When it is quiet like that, it seems like their hearts are beating in unison.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so sorry for taking so long, but this chap is a whole roller coaster, i mean it,,
> 
> warning for graphic violence and mentions of abuse
> 
> lets get this bread lads, im quite excited for this chap so hope you enjoy it too!!

It is a rare morning when Hyungwon wakes up warm and rested. He finds both boys peacefully sleeping on either side of him, surprised they haven’t pushed each other off the bed, as it usually happened back in his house. 

On a clear head and in a relaxed body, it is easier to remember his own hand letting the arrow loose, the sharp ending piercing his brother and his father, blood of his family flowing onto the floor, their faces distorted in growls of pain, their outraged eyes. It happened in a flash. One moment he feels his hands shaking with the uncontrollable desire to hurt his brother, the next moment, he does. He travelled to the kingdom in a haze, blurry visions of the two wolves appearing in his head whenever he tried to recollect what he’s done, why he’s done it.

And somehow, this morning, he cannot bring himself to care about those he never truly learned to love. 

Father did tell him once he was a bastard son. Maybe it was all for the better.

Changkyun must have sensed his anxious mind working because he opens one eye and just looks, motionless. The human boy stares back, and all the black daze vanishes from before his eyes, letting him only focus on the sleepy face in front of him. He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t think there is anything to say. The morning light is seeping through the half-opened wooden blinds, dancing along the white pillow between them, in Changkyun’s black hair, in Hyungwon’s warm brown eyes.

Shifting behind the human boy, Minhyuk rasps out a moan and stretches, throwing his arm over Hyungwon. Changkyun smiles, eyes – or, rather, one eye that Hyungwon can see – crinkling with mirth and teeth showing. He giggles silently, like he always does.

“Good morrow, Lord Hyungwon, son of Chae, grandson of all humans so loathsome,” he croaks in sleepy White tongue, heavily accented and wrong at places, and bumps his face into the back of Hyungwon’s neck, “how do I beseech serveth thee the present day?”

The human boy laughs. “Where did this nonsense come from?” He attempts to turn around, but Minhyuk’s arm atop of him is heavy, immovable, so he resorts to lying down on his side, facing Changkyun.

“This beest how thee human folk speaketh.” He replies, shamelessly and sneakily smiling into Hyungwon’s skin. “I learned it from an old human book,” is said in Lekhver, and the human boy laughs, burying his face into the thin pillow.

“No one speaks this way.” He gathers all the strength and turns around, looking at Minhyuk’s peaceful face. Long fringe falls onto his closed eyes and spreads on the mattress, he breathes steadily through the slightly parted mouth, and the thin white ray of light throws even deeper shadows onto his hollow cheek. Hyungwon wonders how a boy can possess such inhuman beauty and timidly brushes strands of hair out of his face. “We shall get out of bed. There is a long day ahead.” He says contrary to his wish to stay and enjoy the moment for a little while longer and sighs, turning on his back. 

Minhyuk whines, clutching the blanket. Hyungwon sits up with effort, groaning in his throat. All the piled up exhaustion from the past day isn’t easily erased with a one-night sleep. He stands up and gets ready, as ready as he can get with the lack of spare clothing and other tools. He can’t even comb his hair. There are a few gold coins left, enough to buy them food and clothes for the day and sleep another night. What to do after their stay in the inn expires, Hyungwon doesn’t know. The toughness of the situation dawns of him immediately, and he sighs again.

He pulls on his jacket and covers himself with the cloak. “I will check on Raven, get ready in the meantime.” Hyungwon tells the two nuzzling wolves and leaves the chamber, bow and arrows safely strapped on his back. 

He is relieved to find Raven’s stall filled with more hay and the stallion standing proudly and calmly, probably resting. He strokes his neck, his jaws and his cooling nose, and the black creature huffs, as if talking to him. There must be a lot he wants to say. 

They stroll along the quiet quarter of the capital, past three-storey stone houses, some old and chipped, some shingled with wood, some hiding parts of the sky and casting comforting shadows over Hyungwon. Residential streets surround the towering church, build closer to the wall and further from the marketplace. Merchants set up their trading guilts around here, fooling the commoners for more coins. His family does it too – they call the folk around, skin their prey alive to prove the freshness, bargain the price. All so Hyungwon could stay warm and fed during the neverending winter. 

Rare bare trees stand tall by the houses, growing from beneath the paved frozen ground. When Hyungwon was younger, he saw robbers and traitors hanging off those trees by their necks like puppets, lifeless, exposed for the rest of the population to see what happens to those who go against the rule of the monarch. Hyungwon represses a shiver at the thought of what can happen to him and the wolves if anyone finds out who they really are.

Light chirping catches in his ear, and he whips his head up to distinguish a small bird sitting on a black naked branch. The little swallow peeps and bounces, twitching its head, as if studying peculiar humans below it. An image flashes in Hyungwon’s head, a strange dark daydream swimming in front of his eyes. The little bird’s bloodied corps, an old woman’s wrinkled hands plucking its feathers, tying them up with a thread, a few silver coins dropping on Hyungwon’s palm. He doesn’t chase the thought away.

Minhyuk and Changkyun will starve eventually once they run out of money. Hyungwon has nowhere to go, he needs to work if he wants to stay in the kingdom as a proper civilian. Figuring out his course of action, he looks around and hides in the shadows of a narrow alleyway between the houses. He shushes Raven to stay still and takes his bow and an arrow from the quiver. There is no one around; the common folk is either sleeping or getting ready to start the day. It’s quiet.

So Hyungwon presses the arrow to the bow and ties the string, aiming up. He waits. He doesn’t have the time to realise his hand isn’t shaking when he lets go and shoots. The little swallow falls dead on the ground, arrow sticking out from its chest. Hyungwon inhales and exhales faster, staring at the body on the pavement, frozen as he tries to accept what he’s just done. A noise makes him jolt from his place and run to the bird, afraid of anyone seeing him with the weapon out in the open.

He collects the bloodied arrow, puts it back in the quiver and holds the tiny swallow in his palms. Its once white chest is painted a dark red, and its miniature beak is left open, forever now. Hyungwon closes his eyes and brings the bird to his chest, paying respect. When he was younger, he prayed before eating, and his brothers never missed the opportunity to laugh at him. Hyungwon did a lot of things when he was younger, felt fear and distress, talked to himself, cried alone at night. Today he takes the bird by the legs, ties them with a string he found in his pockets and hooks it on the loops of his breeches, covering the body with his cloak. When he takes Raven by the rope again and continues walking towards the centre, he only registers a sting of regret and apology, and his face darkens as he realises there is no more space for anguish and fear left in his chest.

By the time he reaches the house he was looking for, there are two more birds tied safely under his belt, a redwing, a nuthatch. Hyungwon found them at the feeders by a small playground around the church, probably built by local kids who help winter birds survive. He ties Raven to a wooden column supporting the second floor of the house and pushes a wooden door. It’s always open; a woman living there set up her workshop on the first floor of her habitat.

He comes in, a creaking sound following him. Greeting him is a dark room, the only source of light being white rays seeping through the half-shielded windows. Hidden further in the shadows is a table, a crooked woman sitting behind it, a thick white thread flowing from an old spinning wheel into her wrinkled fingers. She raises her head.

Hyungwon uncovers the dead birds hanging under his cloak and raises the swallow by the string around its legs. “How much for a little bird?”

The woman, their local hatter and a seamstress, glances back down onto her growing thread. “What would I do with a little bird like that?” She asks, hoarse voice scraping his ears and tugging along with the croaky spin of the wheel.

The boy raises the swallow higher, pointing at its wings. “It’s blue. Could be used for a young noble’s hat. Swallow’s feathers are delicate.” 

The seamstress beckons him closer, and Hyungwon obeys. “Where did you get a bird like that?”

He nods in the vague direction of the marketplace. “Just outside the wall.” Then he sighs, looking around with an exaggerated expression of disappointment. “I see madam isn’t plentiful on goods this winter.” The ever so full of costumes corners of the room are bare, only rare pieces hanging off the hooks along the walls and stacked behind her table. 

Extending her arm, the woman raises a corner of her mouth in resignation. “Show me the little bird.”

Hyungwon unties the swallow from the loop of his pants and hands her the small creature, immediately getting ready to show her the rest. “It’s getting colder,” he notices off-handedly, “even little birds like a precious redwing can be rare nowadays.”

The woman raises her swollen wrinkled eyes, the boy’s intentions clearer to her than the sky above their heads. “Three silver coins for each.” She hoarsely announces, and Hyungwon’s eyebrows twitch upwards.

“Three?” He sighs, “Arrows aren’t easy to get in town, you could round it to ten.”

“Don’t bargain with me, young boy.” She cuts, gesturing for him to give the rest of his hunt. “Bring me a peacock and get ten for a single feather.”

Hyungwon accepts the clinkling silver coins with compliance. They don’t even fill his palm, don’t form a little pile. This will buy them a peasant’s dinner at the inn. 

He leaves the house with nine silver coins in his pocket, and his mind wanders back to the chamber, to probably hungry Minhyuk and Changkyun. He thinks of various scenarios of what the two can be doing in time of his absence and trots back with Raven along the bustling streets. 

 

Opening the door, Hyungwon finds Minhyuk and Changkyun lying in each other’s arms in their respective bed. Nothing has changed since morning other than now they’re wearing yesterday’s shirts and the sheets are crumpled under their feet. The window shingles are open, letting the white daylight inside. 

As soon as the human boy steps in, the two wolves jerk awake from their daydream and sit up.

“Did you bring food?” Minhyuk asks, looking over Hyungwon’s empty-handed figure. The smell of blood finds its way to his nostrils, and he stands up with a suspicious gaze, wondering where the smell is coming from but not finding the source under the boy’s cloak. He takes off his outdoors, piling them on the table. 

“No. I am sorry.” Hyungwon lowers his gaze, but when he is about to suggest going to the marketplace together, Minhyuk is in front of him, bare legs and bare feet and only a thin white shirt covering his upper half.

The wolf takes his hands in his and takes off the gloves, throwing them on the floor. For a brief moment, Hyungwon forgets how to move when the warm sensation of the other’s skin on his sends a little shiver to his brain, bringing back the memories of last night. Truthfully, they never left his head. What he couldn’t do was acting as if the kisses were the purest form of affection he knew he wasn’t allowed to receive. 

“Why do you smell like blood?” Minhyuk asks, bring his hands to his face and inhaling, closing his eyes for a short second. He immerses into the trace of smell, navigating through the streets and his own history flashing in his head, locating the original source and imagining the shape of the prey. 

Hyungwon has no excuse. “I don’t know.” And he doesn’t have the strength in his voice, doesn’t have the motivation to fight. Little tangles in Minhyuk’s hair stick out at the top of his head; the long fringe falls onto his hooded eyes, painting shades on his hollow cheeks, sharp jaws, parted heart-shaped lips. He sees the way their long hands fit against each other and has the urge to curl his fingers around Minhyuk’s.

“It’s blood,” the wolf boy says quietly and slides the tip of his nose along his palm, smelling, smelling. “You’ve been hunting.” There is a strange lack of accusation in his voice. He is stating the truth, and Hyungwon has nothing else to do but to bring his other hand closer to the boy’s face, enchanted. 

Enamoured, if he dares.

“I wanted to help you.” Hyungwon mutters, and Minhyuk wraps his fingers around his other wrist, bringing the human boy’s hand closer. He leans into the uninhibited touch, feeling a thumb shyly brush his round cheekbone. 

“You didn’t have to help.” They speak lowly, quietly. Hyungwon’s hands are gentle, everlastingly soft, even if white calluses formed on the hills of his palms from grasping a thick rope the entire day and night. To Minhyuk, these hands always smelled of this familiar homely purity, like freshly fallen snow, like newly grown flower. “Not this way.”

Hyungwon almost loses his breath when Minhyuk lowers his head, shadows on his face growing darker. “You do it too.” He finds the voice to say. 

Minhyuk shakes his head lightly-lightly, barely visibly, and a corner of his mouth rises with a resigned sigh. “It’s different.” He leans into Hyungwon’s palm again, inhaling around his thin wrist. His skin is almost transparent, stretched over the bulging bone and delicate long tendons, blue wiry veins interlacing like naked tree branches.

“Why is it different?” Hyungwon almost whispers the question, unable to detach Minhyuk’s warm sensation from his own body, too focused on the beautiful face in his palm.

But he doesn’t manage to drown deeper, doesn’t manage to keep the warmth to himself. Minhyuk shakes his head and steps backwards. “You shall wash yourself. There is a tub for the guests at the end of the corridor.” He tells him calmly but doesn’t smile, only slightly gathers his lips together, softening his features. A little dimple blinks in the corner of his mouth. “You can go after me, there is space only for one.”

Hyungwon nods, looks down, doesn’t resist the instruction. Even though his head is in the clouds, he still has duties to do, people to take care of. Minhyuk takes an offered cloth to dry himself with and leaves the chamber. Hyungwon needs several moments to collect himself, sighs and finally raises his head, glancing across the room.

There is an unfamiliar longing in Changkyun’s eyes. He is sitting on the edge of the bed, shadowed in the light that’s radiating from behind him. When he is alone like that, Hyungwon sees how truly small the other boy is – no, he is wide-shouldered, tanned and comfortingly firm, but his silently glinting eyes and compact hands and hunched back don’t allow Hyungwon to look away, to fight the aggressive flood of fondness. No matter how much he resists, he can’t. 

Changkyun bounces off the bed and crosses the distance in a couple of a steps, grabs Hyungwon’s hands in his, acting fast as he always does. His eyes are closed when he traces his palm with the tip of his nose, just like Minhyuk, inhaling, savouring the almost feral desire to hunt and eat. 

“Changkyun…” Hyungwon mutters, moving away, embarassed of the blood on his hands. He bumps into the table behind him, leans his hips against it, and Changkyun follows him, his grip still too palpable around his thin hands. But then he does exactly what the older wolf did, smelling the inside of his wrist, where his skin is still soft, warm and floral. Hyungwon’s.

The human boy doesn’t succeed in tugging his hand back in time before the other does something that sends Hyungwon off the edge of his carefully built mental wall, protecting him for affection while keeping his own deaf and mute, just the way he wanted it. Changkyun licks his skin, dragging his tongue along the tendons of his wrist, and Hyungwon releases a small gasps, his shoulders jerking. 

“What are you–” but words get stuck in his throat, powerless in front of the other boy. Changkyun interlaces their fingers and steps closer, too close, so close Hyungwon can count his lashes, cracks on his bottom lip, little stubbly hairs on his chin. He feels his breath somewhere in the area of his neck, and then the wolf boy looks up, air between them now the same, warm, tense. “...doing.” Hyungwon exhales as he finds the lost words in his throat. 

And they both know he won’t get an answer, not a verbal one. Because ever since Changkyun knew himself, he preferred to do things differently than others. He likes to feel the others’ warmth, smell, hear their blood flow and their heartbeat, feel their emotions through the little bumps of pulse in their body. Which is why he rises on his tiptoes, pressing himself tightly to the human boy, and lightly captures his bottom lip with his, breathing out. 

In the mere second it takes him to do it, Hyungwon surrenders, knowing how much he wanted – craved – another touch, knowing how impossible it will be for him to resists when there are no restrictions, when Minhyuk is not beside them. And he can call himself a fool, curse his weak will and his tainted heart, beat himself up over mistakes he takes the opportunity to commit, but he will still close his eyes and breathe in, fingers twitching to hold Changkyun’s hands tighter.

He expects the moment to fade away in a blink, expects to flutter his lids open and find no one in front of him, but it is never how the tale goes, not for him. Changkyun kisses him tenser, as if trapping his bottom lip between his, and tugs. He moves to his upper lip, changing where he wants to feel, where he wants to go, kissing Hyungwon’s mouth like he knows every single curve, every single bite and scratch dried up in the cold wind. He is warm, wet, and his thin lips dampen every irritated patch. Hyungwon opens up, kisses back, frown forming between his eyebrows as he tries to hold back and do what’s right – leave the two wolves alone, to themselves and themselves only. He doesn’t belong with them, even though he loves them with his entire feeble heart.

But he is a fool, and he strives for the damp warmth of Changkyun’s mouth, for his tightly clasping hands, small yet so strong, for his loud breathing, louder than anything he has ever heard before. Changkyun speaks as he kisses, so eloquent in his affection that Hyungwon loses himself in it, drowns, stubbornly throws away his inhibitions. 

Their bodies as if merge at the chests with how closely Changkyun presses himself, how he doesn’t only kiss his mouth but into his mouth, leaning further and further. He lets go of his hands, clutches his waist and slides upwards. In the momentary hesitation when their lips part, Hyungwon breathes out. 

“Kyun,” the nickname he never uses, the nickname almost sacred to him having seen with how much care Minhyuk always says it, how softly he whispers to the younger boy at night, how gently he holds his hands and kisses his neck, how genuinely joyfully he laughs at everything Changkyun does. 

What the wolf boy gives Hyungwon in return is fervency, urgency, passion with which he kisses him again, trapping his head between his hands. His fingers scratch from his cheeks to his jaw, moving it closer so Changkyun can do anything wants, knowing so, so well that Hyungwon has no mind to refuse. He licks into his mouth, finding the human boy’s tongue and gliding against it. And they move together, and Hyungwon exhales shakily, maybe a little louder than he intended to – no, he doesn’t have any intentions anymore, he doesn’t have his consciousness, he doesn’t have any control. 

What he has is desire to continue kissing Changkyun for as long as possible, even if he has to wait for the world to come to an end before he can part. 

And the feeling, the feeling of the other boy’s hands and tongue and body pushing against him as he reaches out with every movement of his mouth, all of the warm sensations birth a snake in Hyungwon’s stomach, slimy, tenacious, dragging his organs along with it as it slides down, somewhere below his shirt. And with every kiss it’s as if the snake within him spasms, reciprocating the warmth and sending it from its head to tail, coiling, burning. 

When Hyungwon finally puts his hands around Changkyun’s waist, he realises the urgent want. The one he refused to accept ever since he became an unwanted witness to something entirely intimate, hallow. Something he was never meant to be a part of but something he seeked, needed, yearned for, because he fell in love with someone entirely damned.

And, god, does he crave that damnation if it means Changkyun and Minhyuk are always by his side. 

A low growl resounds somewhere in Changkyun’s throat as he bites Hyungwon’s bottom lip, and the sudden surge of ache and strange fright bring the human boy back to consciousness. He opens his mouth and releases a shaky breath, grip on the other’s waist weakening. He lets go. And Changkyun, the fervent and so silently affectionate Changkyun, steps away, gaze of the shard-like sharp eyes drooping in an unfamiliar expression of vulnerability. As if – as if he got severely offended.

“Changkyun, I…” Hyungwon tries to rationalise, bring himself back to reality in which he is nothing but a human, a despicable bastard son of a hunter, not destined to find his happiness with someone of a different kind. “Minhyuk. There is… Minhyuk.” He mutters and looks down, unable to carry the weight of Changkyun’s gaze. Why, god, why is so pained? “Why are you doing this?” Why is the other boy so damn offended to have been stopped? 

Hyungwon glances up again, not containing the questions that pour right from his heart. “Why are you doing this?” And with every uttered word, Changkyun’s eyes darken, cloud with something so similar to sadness and hurt, despair burdening on anger, because Hyungwon is not meant to ask questions, is not meant to put the younger in this position. “Why don’t you answer?” And Hyungwon can’t stop, yearning for the affection he knows he can’t ever receive, and the confusion at the wolves’ tender kisses and grasping hands paints a black picture in his head. He can’t see a solution to his torments and laments he thought he could share with someone he loved just to remember that he, a mere human being, isn’t worthy of trust from those his own kind tortured to death. “Why are you always so silent?” He holds back the tears, subconsciously understanding that he is just distressed, overwhelmed, pained from everything he has done, dooming himself to loneliness and homelessness, and yet he cannot help it, words pouring like hail, hard and shrilling. 

He barely registers the chamber door open and flinches when Minhyuk appears in his vision, approaching Changkyun. There is hurt in the latter’s eyes. He has never seen the younger wolf so frightfully hurt before. 

Minhyuk wraps his hand around the other’s shoulder, squeezing his arm slightly to cheer him up. He must have heard his monologue, but he doesn’t look upset with Hyungwon, not at all. And there is nothing more Hyungwon wants right now than drop on his knees and ask for forgiveness. 

But Minhyuk starts speaking. “See, he didn’t always have this big nose.” He slides down Changkyun’s high crooked nose bridge with his fingertip. “When he was little, he got sick and couldn’t smell anything. He strayed far away, met, befriended and started talking to a human, thinking he was a wolf like the rest of us. There are a lot of strays in the mountains, those who refuse to join packs. Little Kyun didn’t find it strange, he has always been a friendly child.” Minhyuk explains, gaze fixed on the unchangeably tearful expression on the younger wolf’s face. “The human received some valuable information about us, ran back to his village to tell the hunters about what he found out. The elders had to chase him down and kill him to protect us.” Sighing, Minhyuk strokes the back of the boy’s head and lets go, turning to Hyungwon. “Since then Changkyun doesn’t talk to anyone other than the elders and me.”

Hyungwon’s heart sinks, painfully so. He grows weak in the knees as the need for repentance pushes down on him, but he knows he has no right to cry in the situation. Minhyuk goes to get dressed, and the human boy bites on the inside of his lips as he gathers his words. Unpleasant trickle of blood stains his tongue. Changkyun doesn’t stop staring with the same piercing, hurt expression, and Hyungwon’s heart falters yet again, scraping his chest from the inside. 

“I am sorry.” He says, quietly but sternly, meaning every single syllable. “I understand what you say without you having to say it out loud.” And he didn’t lie. Every single gaze, every single smile, every single touch, Hyungwon understands them all. Which is why, in the depth of his heart, he knows Changkyun’s affection is more than truthful, genuine, bona fide. Hyungwon just… doesn’t know how to accept something so pure. Virtuous in all the immoral sense of the word.

 

After getting ready, the three boys come down to the guests’ diner and pay for the meal with Hyungwon’s last coins. He doesn’t dare use the silver he earned earlier today, saving it for the darkest time. Murder money, is what he calls it. Murder in the name of salvation, if you please. 

They eat mostly in silence, turning a blind eye to the suspicious looks they receive from the rest of the habitats. When they finish, they go outside, heading to the marketplace. Walking along the now busy streets, the wolves follow a few steps behind Hyungwon, looking around with precise attention and sniffing. They can’t stumble upon a dog, they can’t raise much noise – any wrong move can cost them a head. 

Wandering into one of the shadier alleys, Hyungwon treads the ground like a mysterious phantom, soundless, tall. The cloak sways behind him like a bird’s wings. Before they step back into the daylight, Changkyun hops to the human boy’s side, quickly sneaking a hand around his arm and lightly leaning on his shoulder. It is a short moment, a flash, a heartbeat, before Changkyun skips to the front a little more lively than before, and Hyungwon’s lips tug upwards at the familiar sensation in his chest. A flutter. He’s experienced a lot of those. 

The marketplace is crowded, bustling with noise and smells, folks rumble in Nimlam and coins clink as they fall from hand to hand. This can serve as an advantage: the more people there are, the less attention is paid to the three boys. But more people also means more possibilities of someone sparing them a glance and catching them in the act. Hyungwon has seen what they do thieves, even the little ones. He was only whipped once as a kid, when he refused to go hunting for bears in the dark with his father, when he fell on the floor and cried hysterically, when his father took out a rawhide knout and slapped his back until warm blood trickled on the floor. When this spur of anger passed, his father told his brothers to take care of him. He went hunting alone that night and never bothered Hyungwon again, seeing the torturously slow healing process of the small boy’s tender skin. Almost ten years later, and a long flat pink mark is all that’s left from his childhood. 

Keeping a slight distance between himself and the wolves, Hyungwon focuses on the task and strolls along the carriages with freshly cut meat and not freshly caught fish. There are frozen fruits imported from faraway capitals, roots and tubers, nuts and even berries, foraged by brave farmers who travel back and forth across the mountains to gather anything that grows in winter.

Hyungwon stands by a wagon with green apples, looking down and around with no obvious expression. People push themselves forwards, greedy for the rare import of fruits, and the man behind the whole ordeal bargains about the price and amount, establishes his own rules. Hyungwon takes an apple and lowers his hand immediately, stepping away from the wagon and covering the stolen fruit with the vast sleeve of his cloak. When he is far enough, he hides it in his empty quiver.

He knows he won’t lose MInhyuk and Changkyun – or, rather, they won’t lose him – but he still spins around with searching eyes, looking for the two boys. They’re frozen by the butcher’s stand. So Hyungwon slides through the fussy crowd, gathering an inconspicuous handful of nuts and hiding it in his pocket. 

“Let us go.” He whispers into Minhyuk’s ear, quietly approaching the startled boys. They ate not long ago and they crave to eat again. Hyungwon thinks this will be a long day and grabs a block of solid cheese from a passing carriage.

 

By the end of the evening, the three boys sit comfortably on the floor of their chamber and crack nuts in rhythmic silence, strangely addicted to such a relaxing activity. If Hyungwon ever grows old, he wants to spend his entire last living year lying under the sun and cracking nuts, throwing shells wherever he wants. And no one will ever tell him anything – he is old, he’s seen it all, he is allowed to. 

They manage to extinguish the hunger with slices of hard rye bread and cheese. All the apples went to Raven’s belly with a sigh and a tiny stomach grumble from the human boy. Stealing beans and vegetables was pointless, as Hyungwon had to realise. He isn’t home, he can’t throw barley into the pot and make a gruel, he can’t fill a whole cauldron with stew and preserve it for later. He is a guest, and he is supposed to pay for the meals with money that doesn’t exist. 

The best and the only way to deal with exhaustion and malnutrition is to fall asleep, so Hyungwon shooes the two wolves into their bed and plops onto his own, a little cold in just his shirt and braies. He covers himself with the duvet and lies on his side, back facing the two boys. He shouldn’t act like a capricious child, shouldn’t pretend to be distant and aloof and tired beyond his actual level of fatigue, but something whispers for him to remain silent, to never bring up what he is not supposed to even stutter about. 

But soon the void darkness is filled with little noise again, shuffling of the sheets, waddling of bare feet and soft exhales at the back of his neck. Just by the gentle touch of long warm fingers Hyungwon knows it’s Minhyuk who crawls into his bed again, spreading heat all over his freezing limbs. 

And after another hot exhale hits his ear, dry lips nearly pressing to the curved shell, Minhyuk whispers, softly-softly, like a lullaby. 

“Hyungwon, we want you to be with us.”

Words disperse in the air with the quiet tenderness with which they left the other boy’s mouth, but leave a burning print in Hyungwon’s chest, remain in his ears like a bellring. 

He doesn’t dare turn around, gathering his fists under his chin and almost curling into himself if it weren’t for the arms around his waist. 

“Why?” There is nothing else he can say or ask. He wants to follow his heart’s desires, wants to let such obvious truth plant a flower in his chest, wants to let this flower bloom and weave its roots around his ribs, clutching to his body tightly-tightly, so the others’ love never leaves. And yet, he is scared. As stupidly scared as this eternal winter. 

Changkyun slides under his duvet, silent as he always is, shrinks into a ball and nuzzles by his side, taking so little space but being so impossibly close to him. Smaller hands clutch around Hyungwon’s wrists, and the human boy straightens unconsciously, allowing the younger wolf to curl under his chin more comfortably.

“Because we care for you.” Minhyuk whispers again, interlacing their legs and putting his head on the single thin pillow right behind Hyungwon. He feels air irrevocably leave his lungs as Minhyuk snuggles closer, touches the back of his neck with the tip of his nose, exhaling right against his skin. “You’re a human, but you’re our human.”

It’s the last thing he says before he melts into the bed and dives into the dreamy darkness, knowing beyond simple understanding that for Hyungwon, this is enough of an answer to all his mental torments.

 

The next morning Hyungwon wakes up with a sense of dread. 

It’s inexplicable, transcendent, and when Minhyuk and Changkyun jerk awake from sensing the human boy’s anxiety, he cannot describe it. He reciprocates an embrace from the wolves, feeling immense gratitude for everything they go through for him. With him. 

And yet, the mystifying fear doesn’t leave his head and his heart even after they go outside and the sky is bright, as bright as it can get in the kingdom. The clouds are white, the mountains are white, the snow is white. Everything is how it is meant to be. Raven is standing in his stall, so Hyungwon unties the rope and takes the horse with him, finally letting the poor stallion to warm up his legs. The quiver with arrows is safely strapped to his back. The wolves don’t like it, glancing askew at the bow on his shoulder, but they trust him when he says he feels safer this way. The sense of anxiety doesn’t let go even if he has two faithful feral creatures by his side.

Almost as if it’s the opposite – he shouldn’t take the boys with him. He shouldn’t go to the marketplace, shouldn’t steal. He should have stayed in the chamber, pay for one portion of meat with his earned coins and ponder in bed the whole day, do nothing, just lie down and sleep, sleep as much as he can. He would have the two boys around him, keeping him warm and protected, and in return, he’d have given them anything they ever needed.

But Hyungwon doesn’t read the signs of heaven, doesn’t believe in higher beings. He stubbornly walks to the marketplace, keeping Raven close to him on a tight rope and gripping the end of his bow. Looking out for safe and crowded spots, he walks along the food wagons, shushing the stallion with a tug on the rope and a click of his tongue. Having an animal by his side doesn’t make him invisible, but he manages to sneak a handful of beans into his pocket, pretending to be interacting with his horse. Maybe he can make a stew on a fire outside the fortress. All of the habitats in the outer settlements cook outside. 

He searches for rare vegetables and grains. He approaches the stand, mustering a pondering expression as his hand hovers over cabbages and radishes. The more vegetables, the better, especially if they don’t manage to grab at least a piece of shredded pork. 

A sudden noise makes his hand freeze over a carrot he was about to take, and Hyungwon whips his head to the side, feeling blood starting to pump in his temples. A man’s voice rumbles through the street like thunder. Hyungwon’s eyes run madly for the source of shouting, realising he lost the two wolves in the crowd, and when he sees a big towering figure of a merchant, his heart stops beating. The man is threatening Minhyuk.

“Filthy rat, what do you think you’re doing?” The man groans, raising a bread knife over the boy’s head. He is holding a rye loaf. And even though his face is half-hidden behind the hood, Hyungwon can recognise it, the genuine terror he has never seen in the other’s eyes before. “Think you can steal my bread?” The man continues, and Minhyuk cowers, so obviously searching for words in the language he doesn’t speak. 

Hyungwon flinches at the burning wave of horror that gushes through his body and starts pushing through the frozen crowd. Everyone is watching the scene unfold. 

“No! I…” Minhyuk pretends to squeeze the bread in his hands, begging eyes glinting. “Check… hard…” He desperately tries to explain, but the man’s eyes are fire, mad fury possessing his entire body. Minhyuk drops the loaf back onto the stand, taking a few steps back.

“You don’t speak Nimlam, you foolish thief.” The man hushes with menace in his voice, and Minhyuk doesn’t know what to do, steps back until he bumps into another man, who grins at him with the most disgusting, condescending expression. 

Hyungwon tries to push through people, at the same time looking for Changkyun but not finding the other boy anywhere. It’s too packed, it’s too damn packed.

“Must be a foreigner then?” The other man asks, stepping forward, surrounding Minhyuk.

“Thinks he can come to our land and steal our bread?” The merchant lowers his knife and he almost stomps the poor boy with how much he towers over him.

“No! No…” Minhyuk shows his voice again, wheezing the last part. He is so terrified and angry he is about to go mad, but he can’t show the world who he is. Hyungwon reaches for his bow but can’t take is off his shoulder with all the peasants pressing against him. He is breathing hard, panicking, on the verge of tears as he thinks of ways out of this situation, but his throat is closed-up, unable to produce a single sound. 

“What’re you saying, whore?” The merchant bends down, pushing his despicable face into Minhyuk’s, pronouncing his profanities with deep enjoyment and anger, and Hyungwon finally snaps.

Several things happen at once.

The solid “Stop!” drowns in abrupt scream of terror, and before the folks around him realise what’s happening, a feral growl echoes through the streets. A massive grey wolf jumps out of the crowd, slicing claws aiming right at the merchant’s neck.

He crashes the man down, and this is when it turns to chaos, hellish chaos. Blood sprays, and women run away with shrilling shrieks, grabbing their children, shoving past Hyungwon and tumbling him on the ground. Horses neigh, rising on their hind legs and kicking, dogs bark, mixing into the screeching cacophony of the dreadful scene.

And Hyungwon just can’t believe his eyes. 

Changkyun is ripping the merchant’s throat as armoured men surround him and Minhyuk with whatever they’ve got: knives, spears, digging forks, spits, anything. The whole streets is moving in panic and fear, and Hyungwon can’t get up, can’t move from the ground, eyes fixed on the way the grey wolf raises his head, thick blood dripping from his open jaws, the way he growls lowly in his throat, snarling, dirtied canines exposed. He bends his front legs, ready to attack, tail slowly swinging behind him, dusting the dirty pavement. 

Before any of the men can attack, Minhyuk rips his clothes. His face changes unrecognisably, twisting in anger, irises melting into liquid gold and glowing, almost flaming in the white cold air. A man makes a step forward with a fighting shout, and Minhyuk is gone, rending into a jump not as a boy, but a wolf, big, bigger that any human.

Yelling, armoured merchants and peasants scatter around, some still holding onto their weapons, some running away in fear, some recklessly breaking into a fight. And Minhyuk and Changkyun resist every single one, push the stupid humans off themselves or let the blood flow with a single scrape of their sharpened claws. But even their growls can’t make Hyungwon get up from the ground, can’t jerk him awake as he is frozen with his eyes wide open, watching the bloodbath unfold right in front of him. More than fear, he feels mad fascination, almost admiration for the way the two wolves drag the men around by their throats, how they make them scream, how furiously they defend themselves by attacking first. His mind cannot process anything else.

God, does he want them to slaughter all these bastards.

A loud, piercing call of the horn ceases all the noise, all the movements. A second of hesitation, and Hyungwon finally brings himself to the real world, gasping as he recognises the signal. They call it the Draugnall, the call of the wolves. One long blow is enough to warn all the hunters in the valleys of the approaching danger. 

Two long blows is enough to let them know the danger has already come. 

Hyungwon meets eyes with Minhyuk for the shortest of moments, but even this is enough to read the question in his amber gaze. The horn continues calling, deafening the whole kingdom. They have to escape. Hyungwon scrambles to his feet and runs, quickly spotting Raven among abandoned carriages. He has the most loyal horse in the world, he quickly thinks as he jumps on top and looks for the two wolves. They’re surrounded, but the circle is weak, damaged.

“Run!” Hyungwon’s shout echoes off the high stone walls, stealing the men’s attention for a miserable fleeting moment. Using the second of distraction, Minhyuk and Changkyun jump overheads, breaking into inhumanly fast sprint towards the gates. Hyungwon sends Raven into run.

He has never moved this fast on a terrified horse. Raven almost flies, floats above the ground, hooves hitting the ground so rapidly the sound mixes into a singular rumble. They run along different market rows, Hyungwon and the wolves, but the target is the same.

Knights start gathering in front of the gates, blocking the way out of the kingdom, but Minhyuk and Changkyun smash into them bravely, pushing them out of the way. They have swords, heavy and sharp, and Hyungwon doesn’t know how to escape, belatedly realising that if even a scratch lands on Raven, they can both be considered goners. He gets out his bow and arrows, takes less than a blink of an eye to aim and shoots, impaling one of the guards’ neck, sending him on the ground. 

Meanwhile, the wolves don’t let the human boy doubt them for even a second and they dirty the old chipped pavement with red for the horse to rush past, dirtying his hooves. Hyungwon fights as much as he can, stabbing someone’s exposed arm with the arrow when a man gets too close, attempting to cut Raven’s underbelly. Not so easily, Hyungwon wants to shout. If there is one creature he is ready to put his life at risk for, then it’s his loyal stallion. His black warrior. 

They escape. Rushing past the settlement outside the fortress is easier, since no beggar ever dares to fight. Hyungwon looks around; the knights saddle their horses, sending them into run with painful whips. There are surely hunters in the kingdom, there are definitely hunters in the valley. No matter how fast they run, they will always be surrounded by the enemy.

Hyungwon understands it now. The chase, how it feels to be hanging on a tearing thread, how it feels when any second can be his last. Distant shouts still reach his ears but he can’t distinguish a word. In his head there is only his loud panting and a shrieking ring. His eyes are focused on the two wolves in front of him, and the rest of the world is a blur, sheets of white, white and white, heavy snow surrounding him from all sides. He belatedly realises the direction they are heading in. Summerfall Valley. Where the wolves reside. 

No strength is left in their bodies by the time they reach the vast plain, spreading so far in front of them it seems endless, hiding in the foggy horizon. Hyungwon knows by the cold wind alone that home is not near, that safety is unreachable. They are vulnerable, out in the open, specks of colour in the boundless white land. Soon enough the specks of colour double, multiply. Hunters living in the wild are catching up with them, spreading the call of attack, stomping the snow with their heavyweight packhorses and sniffing dogs. Their animals are much more adapted to the wilderness, taught to carry hefty loads on their backs, always ready for a killed prey.

Minhyuk’s legs falter, he stumbles over himself, nearly falling. There is so much hopelessness in his eyes, so uncharacteristic for his feral nature, for his nature to fight. He stops, panting. Hyungwon barely pulls Raven back by the rope, ceasing his movements, and looks with wide eyes at the surrendered wolves, who nearly slump in the snow with their heads hung low. Through the swirling fog he can see tiny, ant-sized figures moving in the distance, getting closer to them step after step. Hyungwon’s heart sinks, dies bit by bit. He can’t let the wolves give up, he can’t let them die. 

But they were surrendered only in his eyes. The human boy only manages to open his mouth to shout, but before any sound comes out, Minhyuk raises his head to the grey endless sky and howls.

Hyungwon’s heart breaks. 

The wolf calls for help, releases long, desperate pleas into the air, hoping for the wind to carry them back home. Changkyun joins him, creating a harmony so emotionally painful it rips Hyungwon’s soul to shreds. He knows wolves never call for help. No human can ever hear a beast howling in the daylight. 

Hearing the hunters come closer and closer, the boys break into a run again. If Minhyuk and Changkyun could, they would cry, from fear, from desperation, from ache. Their bodies can barely hold them anymore. They fought, they killed for love and for each other, they jumped under metal swords, and they can’t run no longer. They can’t bring the hunters to their land, but they can’t battle either, exhausted beyond belief and losing in numbers. There is no hope. Their pack won’t hear the plea for help. They’ve been running for god know how long, and the valley seems to have no end. It’s infinite.

But soon there is a cliff on their left side, a steep edge that leads down to sharp rocks and empty ground. Distant mountains peek from the fog. This is not their home, but it’s a piece of land that separates the territory of the king of Losdór and Summerfall. This is where they meet, the human ground and freedom. And yet every single day the loathsome hunters try to step over the unnamed boundary, conquer what’s not theirs. 

A glint of hope appears right when Raven gives out, tripping over his legs. Stains of brown and black and grey dance in the white foggy air, and if the two wolves could, they would smile with tears running down their cheeks. It’s coming, the help. They heard. They are coming. They must have been near, they must have been scouting the nearby land.

Not being able to hold himself up on a flinching horse, Hyungwon falls down. Raven trots forward with his head hung low. Minhyuk acts quick and picks up the struggling human boy by his cloak with his teeth, tugging him upwards. Granted, Hyungwon is uninjured, so he gets up and hops on the wolf’s back, holding on tight and hiding in the thick long fur. 

The hunters are near. Their shouts are near. 

Hyungwon can’t see much, bends forward to stay on the wolf, and so he jerks in shock when something grand and fast rushes past him, leaving a heated breeze after it. 

It was a wolf. A wolf other than Minhyuk and Changkyun.

The next thing he knows is, victorious shouts turn into cries of fear, men are being torn apart, and a pack of beasts, so much bigger and faster than the two boys he lived with, ruffle the snow up, covering Hyungwon in it. He didn’t know there this many hunters chasing after them – families, clans, gatherings of killers tracking their steps to capture them.

Changkyun races into the fight. It’s as if he was born anew, finally seeing his pack after such a long time, inspired, reanimated. Minhyuk lightly pushes Hyungwon off his back, leaving him on the snow and darting off, willing to help the rest. The human boy watches, sees vague bloody splashes colour the misty air and frozen snow. This is mad, he quickly thinks to himself as he watches – admires – every single creature, their strength, their majesty. 

He realises a little too late that Minhyuk committed a grand mistake by leaving him on the snow alone. He realises a little too late, when he sees a massive beast approaching him with otherworldly speed, that the wolves don’t know who he is. He realises a little too late that to the rest of the world, he is still just a mere human.

And even though there is no use in saving himself, Hyungwon still tries to scurry back on his feet. He falls down, legs giving up on him from inhuman physical exertion. He can do nothing but brace himself for the impact. For pain. For death.

Except none ever come. Changkyun shoves the other wolf on the ground, the hollow crackle from the hit resounding in the silenced air. Other wolves run back, furious about the actions of one of theirs, insisting on killing Hyungwon like the rest of the hunters, but Changkyun stops any movement with one unbelievable trick they’ve all seen one too many times. 

He turns.

“THIS HUMAN IS OURS!”

It resounds in the quiet valley like thunder, loud and clear, falling on their shoulders like an avalanche, freezing blood in their veins like a blizzard. Changkyun shrinks into himself on his knees, covering his hips with his arms. Wind blows his hair into his face, and there are rare smudges of dark red and brown on his skin, dried up battle scars.

Changkyun is no taller than a ripe maize plant, no heavier than all of Hyungwon’s cooking cauldrons put together, and yet the voice, so powerful and deafening, belongs to him.

“This human is ours!” He shouts, hoarsely and deeply, almost snapping. Protecting. “This human belongs to me and Minhyuk, son of Lee.” Hyungwon is stilled, stunned, can’t believe his ears and his eyes. Changkyun throws his arm back and points a finger at the human boy, and the latter can only widen his eyes, slowly coming to realisation that the words of defence are about him. 

“He speaks Lekhver. He took care of us when the fonaki hurt us, he treated my wounds, he gave me strength.” Every single syllable is clear, sharp, said with so much affirmation Hyungwon still couldn’t fully put the voice to the boy’s face, couldn’t link the words to his own name.

“He fed us, he kept us warm, he protected us from his own family. He fought alongside us to save us from our otherwise inevitable death.” Changkyun turns around, looking the human boy in the eyes, and there is truth in everything he said, there is trust in his black serious eyes, there is… devotion that they’ve never quite talked about. And Hyungwon’s heart thrashes like a wild animal in his chest because he understands what Changkyun has just done. “This human earned my trust."

Trust beyond what any other human could ever experience. 

Changkyun turns back to the silenced wolves. “This human is mine, and I will lay my body and soul first before any of you can touch him.”

For a moment, everything is still. 

Hyungwon doesn’t feel the cold that shakes his body, doesn’t feel the cutting snow under his palms, doesn’t feel his cramped numb legs. All he hears is Changkyun, all he sees is Changkyun, and god, does he still not believe what the young wolf has done.

The cold tranquility is broken by the sounds of one of the wolves turning, becoming human. Changkyun’s eyes widen for a short second when he recognises one of the elders, the scary leader of the scouts, those who travel the land in search of danger. He hides behind of the creatures.

“Changkyun,” he announces, making the small boy swallow. He throws away his sudden cowardice and straightens his neck, indicating his readiness to fight for what he believes in. “Son of Elder Im Changsoon.” Hearing his father’s name, Changkyun nods. 

Meanwhile, Minhyuk quietly trots to stand beside Hyungwon, guarding the vulnerable human boy on the ground in case another fight occurs. Hyungwon looks up and smiles slightly, and he can see in the wolf’s expression that he is smiling back, although unnoticeably.

The elder makes a judgement. He knows of Changkyun’s strong sense and understanding of humans, knows of his status, his heritage. He sees the protectiveness in every single step Minhyuk and Changkyun take, their will to fight for someone as low as a human, their genuine trust for the thin, shaken boy on the ground. As if he can look after them as much as any other wolf can – inhumanly devotionally, like a big-hearted beast. 

The elder tells him they will reach the Summerfall Mountains by the time the sun goes down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kyun;;; my son,,, he done did it,,,,, he done did it mate..;;;
> 
> someone interesting will appear in the next chapter!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so sorry for taking so long,,, this chap isnt the most exciting but its like, a needed bit before actually good bits
> 
> hope you still enjoy and thank you for kudos and comments!!

The way back home takes just over a day as Hyungwon refused to separate from Raven on any condition. 

The pack of wolves leads the human boy up the mountains, guarding him from all sides like a prisoner. Minhyuk and Changkyun trudge at the back of the line, heads hung and legs barely moving. Hyungwon forgets his exhaustion and fear just before the sun sets down; from the top of the mighty mountains, the land lies vast, hiding in the glooming horizon, endless.

Snow-covered summits reach into the foggy clouds, and for a very brief moment, the last rays of golden sunshine seep between the peaks, colouring the grey land in bleaks of yellow. Hyungwon brings a hand to his eyes and squints, before he gasps lightly and his mouth parts involuntarily at the otherworldly sight. He hasn’t seen the sun in what feels like years.

They climb carefully up the rocky hills, slowly, so Raven doesn’t stumble. They walk through the dark night, without sleep, without rest. Hyungwon slips into a black drowse, his chin is pressed against his chest and his hands are resting between his knees, rope losely held between weak fingers. When the sky turns ocean blue again, the wolves at the very front run forward, catching stray prey – birds and hares, as these are the only animals residing in the cold mountains. They split their meal between the pack. Minhyuk and Changkyun eat quickly, leaving a little bit on the bone for Hyungwon. 

The human boy, who is already awake, only lightly shakes his head and smiles – he can’t eat raw meat, and Changkyun sits down with a quiet whine. A wolf from the front of the pack howls shortly and signals for everyone to start moving again. 

And the more they walk, the less snow is under their feet, the bluer the sky is, the warmer the air feels. Hyungwon looks around, and for the first in ten years, he sees rare patches of grass hidden between the dark rocks. By the distant song of the birds above his head, he realises that they have reached home of the wolves, the Summerfall Mountains. Where the sun shines and the grass is green and the land is warm. Summits covered in dark pines, sand-coloured cliffs lead up to the mountains, and only rare faint clouds tagle in the free rays of sunshine.

Hyungwon throws his head back, showing his face for the endless beaming sky, and smiles. 

The sun sets down by the time they reach the top. Two wolves halt him in one place while the rest run off into the dark. Torches illuminate the way into the vast plain. Minhyuk and Changkyun come back with little smiles on their faces. They’re dressed in only simple pants and sandals. It’s warm, unbelievably warm. To Hyungwon, it’s like a country he has never been before, land yet unconquered by the mankind, free of curse and war. He wants to shed his layer of fur and lie down in the grass, feel the light floral breeze, smell the nature he has been missing all these years. 

Older, bigger and stronger wolfmen meet him and tell him to get off the horse. They are dressed just as lightly, firm tanned torsos on display, hair long and peculiar headbands decorating their heads. One of the men takes the rope, giving Hyungwon a look that he has no choice but to trust him and follow the rest of the pack, as he is a stranger in their home, an unwanted guest. The human boy pats Raven on the neck one last time and leaves, surrounded by a group of wolves.

They follow the line of flaming torches, guiding them to the settlement of tents and red marquees. The territory is massive, spreading beyond where Hyungwon can see. People come gather in front of their habitats; their distrustful faces look almost intimidating in the light of orange flames. Hyungwon lowers his head, the feeling of hostility finally crawling into his heart. They know who he is; a glance, a sniff is enough to tell women to bring their children closer to their side and stay on guard. 

Minhyuk and Changkyun walk behind Hyungwon and the wolfmen. They are the ones that need to do all the explaining. 

Soon enough Hyungwon is brought to the tall open tent. He is told that the Supreme is waiting. They take his bow and arrows, strip him of his jacket and walk him inside, Minhyuk and Changkyun following suit. Yellow lights reflect off the red fabric behind the three seats, towering on a high pedestal. A man in the middle is greeting the wolfmen that brought the three boys inside with a nod. He is big, his eyes are sharp, and his long hair falls on his strong chest. He is sporting a long necklace made of sharp teeth, and his high headwear reminds Hyungwon of mysterious rulers he read about in folklore books. He was raised on ancient fables and legends; now he is a part of his own fairytale.

Minhyuk and Changkyun stand by his side and crouch down, sitting on their knees. Hyungwon is lost, nervous, intimidated under the narrow gaze of the Supreme, and so he bows down too, kneels, keeping his eyes on the ground. 

“Changkyun.” A low voice calls, and the boy raises his head, a glint of guilt flashing in his eyes. It wasn’t the Supreme that spoke, it was a man sitting to his left, an elder, Hyungwon assumes. He glances up for a quick second, meeting strangely familiar eyes, the arched lids and sharp corners reminding him of… home, as if. 

“Father,” Changkyun says quietly, meekly. Hyungwon represses a gasp – he isn’t used to the younger boy’s voice just yet. He doesn’t know it, doesn’t know the real sound of it, and yet he so clearly pictures Changkyun’s face behind it. That big voice that belongs to such a small boy. 

“You speak in front of a human?” There is genuine unmalicious curiosity in the elder’s voice, and Hyungwon can catch the younger boy swallow and weakly nod in his peripheral vision. “How come? You’ve been gone from home for a month, and you come back with a human at hand. What is your–”

He is cut off by the Supreme with a simple raise of a hand. “I want to hear the human speak.” The ruler of the wolves says. Hyungwon’s heart sinks in with a tingle of fright. He doesn’t know what to expect, doesn’t know what to do. In the corners of his eyes he can distinguish Minhyuk glancing at him, inconspicuously gesturing for him to look up. 

“What is your name?” The Supreme asks. There is pondering tranquility in his voice, like he doesn’t need the answers to his questions, like he has seen what Hyungwon and the two wolf boys have seen, like he can feel what Minhyuk and Changkyun felt before – inexplicable sense of trust of the human boy. 

Hyungwon raises his head, his big brown eyes glistening in the yellow light. “Hyungwon,” he simple says with the lack of knowledge of what to add next, how to refer to the ruler of all wolves. 

“Do you speak Lekhver, Hyungwon?” And the older man knows that he does.

“I do.” The human boy replies steadily, gathering confidence despite his trembling fists. 

“Then tell me, Hyungwon,” the Supreme leans forward, his gaze piercing through the human boy like an arrow, sharp, observing, and to an extent, almost accusatory, “why did these two wolves bring you here?”

If Hyungwon is truthful, he is too afraid to say it out loud, to let his thoughts and surmises free into the wind, to drape his words heavily over everyone’s shoulders. In the thick silence he can almost sense Minhyuk’s and Changkyun’s eyes on him, screaming at him to say something, anything, just not to indulge their Supreme in wordlessness he didn’t ask for. 

“Because...” Hyungwon’s quiet voice breaks the established stillness. He doesn’t have the strength to gather any more confidence, he doesn’t have the strength at all. “Because I promised to protect them,” he says, and it comes out small, almost mute. Like the world isn’t meant to hear him. Like the words aren’t meant for the world to hear. “Because I want to protect them.” The faint murmur drowns in the crackle of fire and the wolves’ breathing, dissipates in the air like powder, gone as soon as it came.

But they hear it all, and Hyungwon doesn’t feel his chest rising with each inhale. It’s as if ice crawls up his limbs to his chest, up his neck, getting under his skull through his nose and ears. He resists the shiver in his body, clutching it within him until his fists spasm and his neck cramps. And he doesn’t breathe, frozen. 

“But you are a human.” The Supreme says, piercing the silence with the statement Hyungwon loathes to hear. The man on the pedestal leans back, thoughtful frown appearing between his eyebrows. “You are loyal to the kind that’s not your own.”

If Hyungwon breathes, he doesn’t feel the hot air getting into his lungs. “It is…” it comes out choked out, uncertain. He closes his eyes for a moment, focuses on the flashing darkness behind his lids, does what his two wolves always do – pretends like the outside world doesn’t exist. “It is Minhyuk and Changkyun,” he mutters, weak and quiet, but carries on after swallowing, “that I am loyal to.”

Sometimes, when the silence around him is absolute and he can’t feel his own body, he thinks he can sense the two boys’ heartbeat. Faintly, but he knows it’s there, the thumping of the big wolf heart that is so much faster than his own.

“But,” he forces out of himself again. His eyes are fixed on the hard brown earth under his knees. The rapid heartbeat he hears at the back of his mind is not his own. “It is their home.” Wolves breathe loudly, it’s something Hyungwon noticed the very first time he saw the two strayed boys outside his house. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, fast, harsh, as if even when they’re motionless on the ground, their inner bodies continue running, ruled by their instincts. And now, more than ever, Hyungwon hears Minhyuk and Changkyun respire with terrifying clarity. He raises his head, though keeping his eyes down. “And for me,” he swallows again, washing off the sand that stuck to his throat, “home is wherever they are.” And just like the last petals of a flower withering away with the last day of summer, his voice wavers and falls to the ground, gone with the first wind. 

The voice of the Supreme strikes him like lightning. “Our home can never be your home.” Although strong, the ruler of the wolves isn’t threatening. He is truthful, and he knows they both know this truth, but Hyungwon is wilting, and the words rip him apart at the seams, like leaves that are being torn from a thorny stem of a rose. The Supreme leans forward, his flame-thrown shadow growing taller. “You swore loyalty to someone who is stronger than you.” And Hyungwon knows this too. Knows this and doesn’t understand why his nose clogs up and his eyes sting. “And we cannot stoop down to grant you the same privilege–”

Inhaling sharply, Changkyun tries to interrupt. “Supreme–”

“We do not surrender our unity,” the wolfman continues, each word cutting off a piece of the human boy’s heart, ”to swear loyalty to humankind–”

“I will fight.”

The familiar silence sets over their shoulders again. Hyungwon clenches his fists so hard his knuckles whiten, and they scrape the ground just to rip his skin. With the flash of pain he throws away his fears and looks up, glinting eyes meeting the Supreme’s. The man on the pedestal holds his gaze, waits for him to say what he wants to say. The rapid heartbeat at the back of the human boy’s mind fades away as his own hammering returns to him, his heart growing too big for his ribcage with each thud, with each thrash against his bones. 

“I want to fight.” His voice comes out louder than he thought was possible in the state he is. Starved, exhausted, terrorised, and yet somehow, all he wants to do is fight. Blood of his own kind on his hands shoots a venom through his veins, and a transcendent pulse of power makes him straighten up and stare, make the ruler of the wolves look him in the eyes and see it, the inhuman loyalty he possesses within his perishable body. 

“How will you fight, Hyungwon?” The Supreme asks like he already knows the answer. 

“With anything I can offer.” He hurries his answer, discarding the question. He wants to let out his own truth, scream it from the top of a mountain if he can. “I want to fight for the wolves. I have proven it, my loyalty, I do not intend on running away.” His throat clogs up as exertion takes the last out of him, bending him to the ground again. There is no saliva left for him to wash away the dust in his mouth. There is so much he needs to say – that protecting Minhyuk and Changkyun means protecting the entire wolfkind, that he does it not only out of love, but out of loath, that he always felt that way, like he didn’t belong with the men that raised him, like his kind is not his people, and he is not part of the same mankind he was born into. This mankind is not his people, and he has never been a people’s kind. “I will fight for the wolves not as one of you, but as a human.”

Because this is what he has always been, just a human. And humans are not his people’s kind.

The Supreme leans on one elbow that’s resting on the armchairs of his seat. All of Hyungwon’s momentary bravery vanishes like pixie dust, and his spine curls under the weight of stones in his chest again, pushing him down. He briefly pictures the faraway mountains of the land he came from, remembers how the cutting snow feels under his bare hands, hears the faint howling of the blizzard in the distant plain, and bitterly thinks that bound he leave now, he will never reach his house alive. 

He doesn’t even have a home anymore. He exiled himself from the land that raised him.

“Changkyun,” the Supreme raises his voice again, referring to the young wolf as if he were his equal, “do you trust the human?”

Minhyuk exhales shortly to the side, as if huffing. Hyungwon feels his boulder heart sinking down more and more, but not because he is afraid to hear what Changkyun replies – he knows his answer. His chest feels tight because Minhyuk wasn’t born under the rule of this Supreme, because he was a child of a stray woman, because he was a joiner, and although he belongs to the pack, his opinion will always remain secondary. And Hyungwon knows, knows too well, that Minhyuk fears being second to first. Unless he shares the burden with someone else. 

“I do.” Changkyun replies steadily. “If I am to find out I’m committing a mistake by twisting my tongue in front of a human,” he swallows audibly, and Hyungwon drowns in the sea of sounds he so longed to hear. Drowns and accepts the water into his lungs. Changkyun breathes out with acceptance of his next words, “then you can just cut it off.”

The elder that is the young wolf’s father closes his eyes and releases a heavy sigh, dismayed, distressed about his son’s reckless decisions. Hyungwon feels rather than sees the Supreme’s gaze on the crown of his lowered head.

“The human is yet to prove himself.” The three boys are stilled, waiting for the verdict like a death sentence. Hyungwon deepens into the warm darkness, mad dizziness in his head and overpowering ache in his body the last thing on his mind. The doesn’t feel the ground underneath, he is floating in an empty space, like a crumpling autumn leaf in the raging wind. “But you may stay the night in our land.”

And Hyungwon finally, finally allows himself to breathe. 

His chest hurts with double intensity as he finally becomes aware of his body, of air in his lungs, of his numb legs, of his bleeding knuckles, of his starved stomach. He isn’t sure he can get up, and yet his eyes water not because of ache. Minhyuk and Changkyun will stay by his side. Or rather, he will stay by theirs, at home they call their own. 

“Thank you, thank you,” Minhyuk mutters and presses his palms and forehead to the ground, bowing deeply. 

The Supreme turns to the side, talking to one of the wolfmen. “Tell my son to show them to their shelter for the night.” Nodding shortly, all the men on the sides exit the tent. 

Hyungwon knows he should say it too, make his respect known, express his utmost gratitude, but all he can do is look up at the Supreme and lower his head immediately after, bowing grave thanks. He stays with his head hung low until he feels warm hands hooking under his arms. 

“Hyungwon, get up.” Changkyun whispers and gently pulls him up. The human boy’s legs cramp, numb after having stayed bent on the ground for a long while. He holds on to the boys’ shoulder as he tries to stabilise himself.

He sees Changkyun smiling the familiar shy smile, and Minhyuk bring his hands to his waist, holding him, and Hyungwon doesn’t resist the twitch of his lips, forming a smile in response on autonomous instincts. He glances back at the Supreme for the last time before the two boys help him exit the tent, hands on his back and steps matching his scrambling pace.

It’s dark and quiet outside. Distant torches illuminate thin paths that twist in various directions – some lead to the dark-dark forest, some bring back to the heel of the mountains, some lure the strangers to peek into the mysterious lives of the wolves that has always remained a secret. 

While they’re alone for the time being, Minhyuk bravely smiles at Hyungwon with all the sentiments he wants to express, all the happiness. This trial is a small, but important victory for the three of them, and when the blinking faraway stars are the only witnesses to their forbidden emotions, they silently promise to get over all the hardships together. 

“Can you stand?” Minhyuk asks worriedly when Hyungwon shuts his eyes for a quick second and tries to chase the dizziness away, to find his balance.

He offers a little smile and nods, still keeping his hand on Minhyuk’s shoulder. The tranquility around them calms him down – he can breathe, finally, breathe and feel the air revive him, give him strength, instead of stinging and burning his lungs inside out. When he is calmed like this, with the firmest support under his arm, he looks at Changkyun, really looks at him for the first time since the young wolf said those fateful words. 

Changkyun is smiling, lightly, so that his dimples appear and his eyes glow with quiet sentiments he no longer needs to keep to himself. Hyungwon can’t look away, anticipating, because after everything he has already been through, he knows this isn’t a dream. 

“Hyungwon,” comes out a quiet murmur, intimate, only meant for him and Minhyuk to hear. The human boy’s breath falters, and doesn’t yet know what to respond. Changkyun only calls his name, and it sounds like a word he’s never heard before, in a language he doesn’t speak, uttered by a stranger he’s never met. But despite the unfamiliarity, the voice is homely, and Hyungwon’s name as if meant to roll off the young wolf’s tongue with this peculiar care and this unbelievable… euphoria about finally breaking all the barriers.

Changkyun revealed his voice because he trusts him. And Hyungwon doesn’t know how to express his gratitude in a way that equals to everything the two wolves have done for him. 

The limp hand by his side twitches with the only wish to reach out, and Changkyun, seeing every single change, smiles wider and surrounds Hyungwon the next second, embracing him tightly-tightly. The human boy nuzzles into the warm neck, weak hands coming to feel the naked back, and Changkyun rises on his tiptoes, whispering, “I know,” and hides his face in the boy’s shoulder. “I know.”

Minhyuk puffs his small chest and leans on the two boys from the side, hugging them both. Changkyun giggles out loud into the human boy’s skin. It’s the sound Hyungwon has never heard before, and he closes his eyes, spaced out and safe, surrounded by familiar warmth he’s missed over the last two tough days. 

There is a sudden rustle in the distance, and someone’s quick steps echo in the dark plain. “Minhyuk!” A high female voice calls, and the wolf boys turn around in unison, excitement igniting in their eyes and eyebrows rising in surprise. 

A young girl is hurriedly running down the illuminated path, and Minhyuk bounces on his feet and waves widely over his head. “Hyejoo!” 

The girl bumps straight into his embrace, presses her cheek against his chest and wraps her arms around his waist, crossing her small fingers behind his back. “You’re back,” she mumbles and pouts. Her face changes from radiant joy to gloomy disconcert, like Minhyuk did something to upset her. “We worried,” she leans back, and the older wolf ruffles her hair and pinches soft cheeks, “a rumour went around that you two died.”

Before Minhyuk can hug the girl again, Changkyun lightly pushes the older wolf away with his shoulder. “Hyejoo!” He groan-whines, stomping the ground and looking at the abashedly smiling girl with big offended eyes. “Why are you always running to him first?” He complains, sticking his lower jaw in Minhyuk’s direction. “I’m your–”

The girl hugs him before he can finish, immediately calming him down. He brings a hand to her head and strokes her hair, nuzzling, tiny smile blooming on his face again. 

Hyungwon is standing by Minhyuk’s side, lost, a little shy. When the girl finally notices his presence, she steps away and hides behind Changkyun, long lidded eyes looking up at the human boy with more uneasiness and distrust than anger or fear. 

Changkyun throws an arm around her shoulders. “This is Hyejoo, my sister.” He introduces, and Hyungwon parts his mouth and looks at the younger wolf boy first, as if he didn’t hear it quite right. It is strange to him – he knows Minhyuk from beginning to end, days spent under the tall dark pine trees of his forest resulted in hours-long conversation, in revelations, in confessions. He knows Changkyun from stories the other boy told him, from humourous stick drawings, from his little subtle gestures and big deeds. But now Hyungwon thinks there is whole lot more Changkyun needs to tell him with his own words.

“This is Hyungwon,” the younger wolf bends his neck to look at the girl, “he is…” he exchanges a short look with Minhyuk, as if they don’t quite know how to introduce an involuntary intruder to their family. “He is a human.”

Hyungwon manages a small smile and slowly nods his head in a shy bow, unsure of how to treat the daughter of one of the big strong elders he has just kneeled in front of. 

Hyejoo nods too, just as timidly. She is a lovely young girl, almost dainty, like a little princess, and if Hyungwon didn’t know any better, he would never think that terrifying mystified wolves could possess such inhuman beauty. 

“Don’t think you should tell mother we’re back,” Minhyuk mumbles, curving his eyebrows at Changkyun, a little worried, a little nervous, a little unlike him. 

“Father was there,” the younger wolf nods in the direction of the tent, “if he knows, mama knows too.”

“Do you not want to see your family?” Hyungwon quietly asks, and Hyejoo, who hasn’t ever heard a human speak their language, shortly gasps and flinches, resisting the urge to step back. Hyungwon’s voice is still small, powerless, and if it wasn’t for Minhyuk’s tentative hand on his back, he wouldn't feel the ground under his feet. 

“It’s,” Minhyuk scratches the back of his head and hums, grimacing and choosing words carefully, “complicated, because you’re–”

He doesn’t manage to finish when another loud call from the dark takes all four of them by great surprise. 

“Minhyuk! Changkyun!” A male bass calls, and the wolves’ faces brighten up the next second, open-mouthed smiles stretching their lips. 

“Hyunwoo!” Minhyuk shouts and suddenly runs towards the approaching man. Hyungwon can’t see well in the dark, can’t focus with black spots swirling in his vision, but the closer they move, the more he distinguishes the shape of a wide tanned torso and a strong jawline and short black hair. 

The said man comes to stand by Hyejoo’s and Changkyun’s side, Minhyuk gleefully clinging to his arm and embracing him around the shoulders. Changkyun bounces up and bumps into Hyunwoo with a tight hug.

The man laughs wholeheartedly, and little crinkles in the corner of his eyes and a warm blush on his strong cheekbones make Hyungwon unconsciously want to smile too. Familiar joy blooms in his aching heart when all he sees is his two wolf boys happy, and does he sense their happiness beyond what his eyes can perceive. 

“I missed you more than you can possibly begin to imagine.” Minhyuk mumbles into the man’s skin in a hoarse high voice, as if tears clog his nose and throat. After a light pat on his back, the wolf lets go of the other with a smile, so wide and bright it rivals the white twinkling stars in the endless sky. 

“I missed you both too.” Hyunwoo gives the two boys a few more taps on the shoulders and lets go, and his previously warm crinkled eyes turn a little more serious, rounding as he finally looks at Hyungwon. He is beautiful too, the human boy thinks.

“This is Hyunwoo,” Minhyuk introduces and leans backwards just slightly, “he’s the Supreme’s son.”

The mentioned man releases a quiet laugh, lowering his head in embarrassment. “Please don’t refer to my father like that.” 

“But you’ll be next,” Changkyun says in a yet unfamiliar to Hyungwon tone, as if he is child asking his parents whether what he knows correlates to the worldly truth, “right?” He gives Minhyuk a big-eyed stare. 

Hyungwon is far too faint to keep track of conversations. His gaze linger on little things he always catches on, be it pixie-like sparkles in the young wolf’s eyes, or the almost inconspicuous pout of his thin mouth, or the sharp tips of his teeth that brush against his lower lip when he tries to contain his smile. The rest of the world fades to blurry darkness, insignificant, mute, because in one moment, all of the nature’s sounds gathered on the tip of Changkyun’s tongue.

“Hyungwon?” The vague darkness speaks out, and the human boy blinks, moving his eyes to Minhyuk, a very beautiful Minhyuk. He briefly wonders if wolves use any charms to keep themselves youthful and fresh even after battles and numerous sleepless nights, before his vision shakes and all the delightful faces spin around in circles in front of him. He stumbles over his feet, but Minhyuk’s hands are around him in the next moment, keeping him steady. 

Warmth from the palm on his back reaches him through the thin tunic, and if Hyungwon looks down, all he sees is Minhyuk, his worried black eyes and his soft parted lips. They’re the colour of bloomed roses and they are gentle like petals, and Hyungwon is sure they are just as silky and fragile as precious garden flowers, even though it has been ten years since he last saw a rose bloom. 

The petal lips whisper, ask him if he can stand. He nods, and when his gaze moves back up to Minhyuk’s eyes, he sees that they are an abyss, bottomless, endless, and the blackness clouding it is warm, tender. Minhyuk’s eyes are like broken pieces of cracked ice, and yet what hides beneath them is a hot spring, washing away all worries and exhaustion, all evils of the world, all piled up pain that never found its release. 

“Hyungwon?” It’s Hyunwoo’s voice that calls him. Detaching his clouded eyes from Minhyuk’s face, the human boy looks at the man opposite him. He’s seen it all – the subtle care that Hyungwon thought was only visible to him, the gentlest touches, the concerned frowns. After all, Hyungwon is still just a mere human, and if he closes his eyes, the world may forever fade to black. 

“We will bring you to the tent you will spend the night in.” Hyunwoo informs him, and all the human boy can do it nod and follow the wolves’ steps. His numb fingers barely feel Minhyuk’s shoulder underneath them. 

They take a dark path, leading through the empty meadow and along the steep cliff. The Supreme’s son is showing the way, and Minhyuk and Hyungwon walk behind him as well as they can. Changkyun and his little sister follow suit. Stomped grass under their feet rustles and whispers and invisible crickets play their nightly song in the distance.

Hyunwoo turns around all of a sudden. “Hyejoo, I think you should go home.”

The young girl stops and looks up at him, a little sulky, a little stubborn. Changkyun lightly nudges her from the back, and she nods and steps away. She promises her brother to see him tomorrow and runs off, leaving with a dry swish. The four men continue walking. 

The tent they are brought to is not isolated, although it’s deadly quiet. There are torches surrounding the small canopy, covered by thick woven fabric. There is a campfire, yet unlit. The little meadow is beautiful in the night, guarded by the dark forest from one side and looking over the cliff. Hush ambient sounds of flowing water from below tell Hyungwon there is a river.

Hyunwoo pushes the long cloth out of the way and lets the moon shine onto thick pillows and blankets, dark crimson with woven designs. There is so much space Hyungwon is sure at least six transformed wolves can fit in next to him.

They gently sit the human boy down, and he doesn’t resists the gravity, lying down with a heavy sigh. It’s soft and warm. Minhyuk kneels next to him and smiles.

“We’ll cook you a rabbit.” He bounces on his feet and runs out, and Hyungwon allows himself to close his eyes and let his body disappear into the improvised bed. He doesn’t sleep. The smell of fire and meat soon sneaks into his nostrils, faint whispers outside calm him down, and the comforting darkness carries his daydreams to a place where he can be happy. 

He doesn’t know how long he’s been lying down for, but when Changkyun opens the tent again and gleefully squats in front of him, saying nothing but smiling, Hyungwon feels lighter, better. He reciprocates the smile and sits up. Ache still spreads along his spine, but he doesn’t care, doesn’t have the mind to care when he gets outside and sees the thoughtfully cooked rabbit on the spit, offered just to him. 

Hyunwoo is long gone, and it’s just the three of them again, like it has always meant to be. They settle on the grass in front of the fire, and Hyungwon’s head almost goes dizzy again with intoxicating smell of food. He bites into the meat, closing his eyes and shuddering with the weak exhale, because the taste on his tongue feels like heaven after long tough days without proper food. 

He is so devoted to filling his thinned stomach he doesn’t notice the initial silence and motionlessness from the two wolf boys. “You are not eating?” He asks, juice dripping from his lips to his chin. He wipes it with the back of his hand, uncaring of manners now that he is in the land where those don’t exist. 

“We don’t usually eat as people.” Minhyuk shrugs with a little smile on his face. They look peaceful, Minhyuk and Changkyun, they look content. Orange flames reflect in their black eyes as they look at Hyungwon quietly eating, and the light in their irises, the soft curls of their lips, the relaxed curves of their spines as they sit however is comfortable for them, makes them look warm, feel warm, and Hyungwon feels this warmth too. Minhyuk brings his knees to his chest and hides the lower part of his face between them. “I’m so happy you’re here.” He mumbles, and it comes out muffled, a little unintelligible, but the human boy understands and smiles, chewing.

“I am happy I am here, too.” He says just as quietly and takes another bite. 

 

Although it’s not too late, the wolves agree to go sleep early with Hyungwon. They haven’t had a proper rest either, but their stamina is stronger, inhumanly so, and they can survive another night simply guarding the human boy’s peaceful sleep.

He has been wearing the same rags for days, and he wants nothing more but to bathe and put on new clothes, but it’s a concern he leaves for tomorrow. He believes the new day will be better, he always believes that.

The curtain of the tent is pushed aside to let the moonlight in, and Hyungwon hides inside and takes off the dirty shirt, so impossibly relieved that the Summerfall Mountains are hot, and he never has to fear the cold again. Changkyun and Minhyuk creep behind, also wanting to get ready for sleep. 

It’s sudden when the younger wolf starts speaking again. “When is athzhilar-hilezar going to happen?” He asks, and Hyungwon just frowns, doesn’t know what the other boy means.

Minhyuk’s eyes widen and his brows rise up, and he turns to the younger with a nearly offended shocked expression. “Not now, Changkyun.” He hushly scolds him. The other boy just shrugs, eyes big and innocent and a little bashful. 

Hyungwon, with his discarded shirt still in hands, turns to look at the two wolves curiously, cocking his head to the side in confusion. “What does it mean?” He has learned a lot of words, both on his own from ancient dusty books and with Minhyuk, but he doesn’t actually know how people within the pack communicate. He hopes to finds out soon enough, hopes he has all the time in the world to do so.

Minhyuk sighs and shakes his head with a little incredulous smiles, throwing his arm over Changkyun’s shoulders. “Oh, child.” He swallows back a chuckle. Twisting his free hand in the air, he gathers his words, thinking of easy ways to explain what they have just heard. Changkyun’s eyes are aimed somewhere in the area of Hyungwon’s collarbones, mindlessly. “It’s a ritual,” Minhyuk starts, “it occurs,” he prolongs his vowels, eyes wandering up and around the tent, “when mating is about to happen.”

Hyungwon blinks. “Mating is for animals.” He doesn’t exactly see anything peculiar with a strange explanation. He doesn’t exactly see where Changkyun was going with it when he first said it.

Minhyuk’s top lip rises, unsatisfied with the information he thinks he knew before but never paid much attention to. He hums. “What do humans call it?” He bends his neck and asks the younger wolf. Changkyun shrugs, careless. Then Minhyuk gasps and widens his eyes again. “Marriage!” He frowns. “No.” He leans down to whisper to the other boy again. “Do humans only get married?” 

Changkyun quickly curls his lips down, indicating that he has no clue. Minhyuk gives up. “It’s a ritual that happens before our way of union.”

Hyungwon cocks his head to the other side.

The older wolf sighs, a little exasperated but amused, and a tiny smile grows on his face. “He says he wants to have sex with you.”

And this Hyungwon understands. His eyes widen, and he brings his hands that are still clutching his shirt closer to his chest. “Now?” He blurts out with the lack of anything else to say.

Minhyuk snorts and smiles so wide his eyes wrinkle and his teeth at the further back expose. He approaches the human boy and presses his warm palms to the sides of his face. Endearment blossoms in his chest like cherry flowers. “No, not now,” he twitches with the remaining laughter and squishes Hyungwon’s cheeks, and his plush lips pluck forward. He looks a little stunned, a little dumbfounded.

The human boy continues looking at the wolf in front of him, eyes expressing seemingly nothing but confusion and everything at the same time. He doesn’t move, and Minhyuk doesn’t laugh anymore, only admiring the delicate human boy he called his own with a tender smile. He straightens and stretches his neck, gifting Hyungwon’s lips a light airy kiss, so incredibly soft it’s ephemeral, gone with a blink. And yet even the feather-like touches always remain on his skin like a burn, spreading down to his heart, to his limbs. 

Minhyuk’s whisper comes out like a lullaby. “Because we’re a union.” He lets go of Hyungwon and offers a small sweet smile. “Sleep?” He takes the shirt from the human boy’ clutch and throws it somewhere in the corner of the tent, before turning around and yawning. He falls onto the pile of pillows and starts shifting like he always does when looking for the most comfortable position.

Changkyun jumps on top of the other boy, and they play-fight like excited cubs, stomping all the blankets under their legs. Hyungwon doesn’t immediately realise what he needs to do. He thinks of the time spent in his house with the two boys, of things he has seen and wished to feel, of words he heard and yearns to hear again. 

When he discards his filthy breeches and steps closer to the improvised bed, the two wolves have already calmed down. There is a narrow space between them, enough for Hyungwon to lie down and bury his face in a big thick pillow, and familiar sensations all over his body begin again – hands around his waist, noses poking at his neck, legs intertwining with his own. 

The ache disappears slowly, freeing his body and his mind. He feels two hearts beating, he hears exhales coming out of two mouths, he sees familiar scattered hair on the pillow he’s sharing with two other heads, and he closes his eyes, knowing he will fall asleep for good. He thinks that, finally, for the first time, the warmth he feels is shared between the three of them equally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so what changkyun said is a combination of athzilar (romantic love) and athhilezar (sex) so basically love sex so basically we going /plane emoji/ adult content


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so sorry for taking so long! i was kind of in a block (
> 
> this chapter Finally contains dialogues so yay to actual information we've been missing for the previous 40k words
> 
> hope you enjoy nevertheless! smth cool is coming soon

The rays of sunlight crawl into the tent through the heavy curtains that were left slightly ajar for the night. The light slides along the ruffled pillows, walks up Hyungwon’s face and lies on his closed lids, insistently painting his black world in orange. He grimaces, displeased with the loss of peacefulness. Releasing a short whine, he clumsily works his shoulders to turn to the other side, away from the stubborn sun. 

Warm breath hits his chest, and he flinches lightly when dry hands hug him around the waist and press him closer to the heated body. Blinking his eyes open, Hyungwon finds a crown of messy black hair under his chin. Changkyun quietly whines, as adorable as a little puppy, and nuzzles into the thin chest, throws his legs over Hyungwon’s, presses their skin as close as possible. 

The human boy smiles, and although he is still disoriented from being woken up so suddenly, the feathery fluttering in his heart starts softly on its own, like it always does. He has never been happier to start a new day and so he sighs with relief, bringing his hands to the back of the wolf’s head and embracing him. He fought to stay alive to have the boys he loves the most by his side. 

Minhyuk called them something special before the went to sleep - a union, and he intertwined their hands like vines, so thin and yet so firm, tangling tightly against all the world’s laws. But even if the wolves are his roots and his tree bark, Hyungwon… he is easy to burn. He is a fallen petal, and although all he can do for now is offer a gentle embrace, he can only hope for the wind to carry him far away from the fire. Before he can plant the seed again and grow taller than before, mightier than the rest of the world expects him to be, stronger than the man he has already become.

And while Changkyun is tucked safely under his arms, he can breathe in the sweet summer’s air and close his eyes for a minute longer, grateful for this temporary heavenly peace. 

Cicadas and early morning birds sing their melodic songs, distant river flushes its waters against the rocky shores, and Changkyun murmurs softly into his skin, displeased about being awoken. He scrambles out of Hyungwon’s hold, digging into the ruffled pillows and shifting, stretching, trying to find the comforting darkness again. The human boy blooms with tender adoration, hands reaching towards tangled black strands and brushing them out of the wolf’s face. The latter breathes out with a grumpy whimper and turns to Hyungwon, blinking the sun away from his lashes. 

“Good morning,” the human boy whispers, smiling. The look in Changkyun’s eyes is sleepy, hazy, but as if a little enchanted. He smiles too and closes his eyes again, rubbing his cheek on the pillow. 

“Morning,” he mutters, voice deep and raspy and laced with sleep and still so unfamiliar to the human boy. 

The ruthless sun rays dig into his back, heating his skin, and he belatedly realises the other wolf is gone. “Where is Minhyuk?” He brings his hand to Changkyun’s face, gently brushing a dry strands behind his ear. He sees it move under his hovering touch. 

“Probably went to see his family.” The other languidly replies and opens his eyes, this time ready to face the day. When he looks at Hyungwon, it’s always a little bewitching, captivating. His black irises are clouded with early morning hue, softening the usually sharp corners. Hyungwon’s palm lightly rests on his round cheek. 

Changkyun glances down, between the boy’s crooked shoulders. He picks the little garnet from the pillow with his fingers and observes it thoughtfully. “You kept it.” 

Hyungwon looks between their bare torsos. Even if his body is protecting it from the sun, the small red stone reflects the freshen daylight and white twinkles hide in the rough edges. He covers Changkyun’s smaller hand with his, tapping the gem with a fingertip. 

“I have kept it safe under my shirt,” he replies and feels warm at the memories that seem so far away now. His chest tightens at the blurry image of a wounded wolf on his bed, weary and pained and trapped, but the chains disappear as soon as they came. He stayed strong through the torturous nights, they all did.

“Reminds me of Hyukkie,” Changkyun pensively says. Something tugs at Hyungwon’s heart when he hears the nickname he never had the chance to hear before. And desperate hope for time rings at the back of his mind again, and the merciless sun doesn’t burn his suddenly cooling his skin.

“Why?”

The wolf shrugs with one shoulder. “His name meaning.” Changkyun’s voice is a little lazy, boyish, simple words come out slow but so peculiarly cute. “Burning jade, what his name means.” He frowns, tucking the corners of his lips like a little child, forcing the small dimples out. “I think. Red like flames.”

Hyungwon smiles. “Is not jade green?”

Changkyun shrugs again, eyes unchangeably fixed on the little garnet. “Still a stone.”

“A gemstone.” The human boy corrects, and the wolf lightly clicks his tongue with a tiny growing smile. He hides his face in Hyungwon’s chest, hugging the thin boy around the back. “What does your name mean?” He asks, embracing Changkyun as well, keeping his head still. 

The wolf boy breathes into his chest for a few moments, before lips move over his skin as he speaks. “Peacemaker,” comes a muffled reply. 

Hyungwon straightens his neck and puts his chin on top of the other’s head, and his eyes turn into crescent as he smiles warmly to himself. “It suits you.”

They lie in peace for a little while, safe and relaxed in each other’s embrace. The human boy feels the sun getting under his skin again and he doesn’t worry for the time being. 

Approaching footsteps ruffle the fresh grass and stop right in front of the tent. Turning around, Hyungwon sees the curtain rise upwards, and Minhyuk’s bright smiling face appears in the entrance. The human boy’s heart blooms like a flower garden. 

“I brought clothes.” He raises a thin pile of brown fabric in the air.

Changkyun jolts up from the pillow to peek over Hyungwon’s shoulder and smiles too, and the sun reflects his skin like it’s honey. He jumps on his feet and rushes out of the tent, bumping right into Minhyuk’s embrace. The hug they share is short – just a quick squeeze – and Changkyun bounces back immediately, turning around to give Hyungwon a wave with a toothy smile, and disappears. The rustle of his bare feet on the grass gets quieter within seconds. 

Minhyuk enters the tent, smiles at the sleepy Hyungwon brightly-brightly, with puppy-like adoration, and squats next to him, plopping a pile of light clothes on his head. The human boy grimaces and moves it on the pillow next to him, adjusting his still sleep-laced eyes to a shadowed Minhyuk towering over him. 

“Good morning,” the wolf boy says softly and pokes Hyungwon’s tangled locks, weaving one strand on his finger. It’s oily and a little long.

“Morning,” Hyungwon replies and beams too, a little smile curling the corners of his lips. “Where did Changkyun go?”

Minhyuk is still gently playing with the black hair, and his expression is that of inner peace and comfort. “Went to see him family. Hyejoo and his mother must have missed him a lot.”

Hyungwon acknowledges his words with a blink. Raising his hands over his head, he carefully catches Minhyuk’s wrists with his fingers and brings it closer to his face. He is shy with gestures like that; scared to touch and scared to feel, always waiting for affection to come to him first, and he resists leaving a kiss on the back of the other wolf’s hand, too afraid of getting burned. He intertwines their fingers instead. 

“I shall bring you to the bathhouse, get you all cleaned up.” Minhyuk says and lightly swings their hands. Hyungwon closes his eyes and imagines what warm water would feel like on his skin, imagines brushing through his washed hair and wearing fresh clothes. There is nothing he wants more than to shed layers of his skin and become a new person.

The wolf boy seems to catch on his little daydreams, because his eyes crinkle with a smile and something mirthful sparks in the black irises. He gets on his feet with a jump and abruptly pulls Hyungwon up by the hand, making the human boy groan. His shoulder almost cracks. 

“No,” he whines, slouching his spine and grimacing, unhappy with being separated from the softest velvet pillow he has ever laid on. 

“Lots of grandiose things to do today!” Minhyuk exclaims and hurries Hyungwon to get up. “I was ordered to bring you to bathhouse, and then we’re going to see the Supreme.”

The human boy’s eyes flicker upwards with gloom and discontent. His chest tightens again, and he blames himself for allowing the illusion of safety and peace settle in his head for a short while. This is not his home, he has to remind himself, and his tiny loving heart is still only human. The blood it pumps can never be mixed with the one of his loved ones. 

But he gets up and pulls a fresh white shirt over his head. It’s light and smells like freedom and sun and summer, and when he steps outside, it is to breathe with full lungs and feel the tender fabric brush his arms and chest with the lightest flutter of a breeze. He hasn’t yet gotten to the feeling of warmth and sun on his skin, and his body shivers out of habit, always prepared for the ruthless cold and cutting snow. It’s strange to wear sandals outside and feel grass tickling his toes instead of suffocatingly thick fur hide boots. 

In the broad daylight Hyungwon can look around and see the world he involuntarily found himself in. He has to squint and shield his eyes from the golden sun that enhances every single colour like magic. Green trees and green soil are greener than the green he has seen before in the land that’s by the Aranarth, the sky is crystal blue, blue like bushes of forget-me-nots that used to grow in the meadow by his childhood home ten years ago. They are high up in the mountains, and the scenery that opens up before him is all colours of nature and beauty he never knew existed. Faraway foggy mountains and wild forests and yellow rings of sunlight hiding in the tall clouds. This is the safety and peace he has been dreaming of since he learned how to walk.

Minhyuk brings him to the bathhouse, a low-lying construction that’s a little separated from the rest of the wolves’ settlement. It’s not far – everyone from the closest tents and small bamboo huts can see who comes and goes, and Hyungwon spots a few curious heads poking between curtains and doors as he enters the house.

It’s empty, most likely because everyone knows there is a human on their territory. There are several stone baths running, and fog gathers over the surface. Minhyuk takes him to the washing corner, where buckets of water stand over wooden boards, designated for drainage. The wolf boy hesitates behind. 

“Do you want me to leave… so you can take your time?” He asks quietly, folding and unfolding the clean pants he brought in his hands.

Hyungwon rubs his forearm, unsure, and speaks over his slouched shoulder. “I would not mind either.”

Minhyuk smiles with the corners of his mouth and puts the clothes next to a pile of towels on a polished stone bench by the washing corner. “I think I will leave you to it. I’ll run to the elders to notify them that you’re coming in the meantime.” He fidgets around, but takes another breath and puffs his cheeks further in a soft smile. “You’ll find everything you need here.” Hyungwon nods, and Minhyuk takes a final look into his eyes before turning around to leave. “You have an hour!” He shouts before closing the door to the bathhouse, leaving the human boy to his autonomy. 

He has never been more terrified of solitude than at the moment, when he is a stranger on someone else’s land, when he is vulnerable and unarmoured, when there is rooted fear of never being able to see those he loves blooming at the front of his mind. But there isn’t anything else he can do other than take off his clothes and wash himself, so he does exactly that, soaps and scrubs his skin, soaks his hair, cleans everything that reminds him of the other side of Losdór. He hopes to erase the human smell, but knows that even layers and layers of foam won’t erase who he is.

He sinks in the hot bath for half an hour, feeling his bones melt and relax in heated water. He thinks of the meeting with the Supreme, plans his strategies and gathers his knowledge, but always ends up thinking about the two boys. They never left his mind, but in the moment of stress, the memory of their warm embrace seems to be the only thing keeping him sane.

Once dried and dressed, Hyungwon steps outside, taking his dirty clothes and used towels with him. Minhyuk is sitting on a small stone step in front of the bathhouse, face turned towards the sun. He jumps on his feet when he hears the human boy exiting. 

“I’ll take those for you,” he smiles and reaches for the pile in the other’s hands without further ado, hiding it under his armpit. Hyungwon strokes the back of his damp head shyly. “Let’s go?” Minhyuk nods towards the settlement and steps down, waiting for the boy to follow. 

They walk through the emptier end of the village. Minhyuk’s steps are bouncy, head held high and confident and cheerful, and Hyungwon waddles behind, eyes kept on the ground to avoid the same curious stares following them until the richer, taller part of the settlements. Tents here are big, covered in deep maroon and violet fabric with delicate golden embroidery. The human boy believes this is where all the elders and higher status wolves gather. 

Minhyuk told him once that their pack doesn’t have the same hierarchy as humans – everyone is free, but to keep the people together there should always be an order. The Supreme establishes safety and peace within the pack and other folks, stray wolves or hordes living somewhere else. Wolves, they’re similar to people. They hunt as a group and share the food with their families, but everyone has a role that keeps the pack together as it is. Minhyuk and Changkyun, they always wanted to be scouts – explore the grounds, tracks hunters’ locations and keep the territory safe. It’s unfortunate when young wolves like them get lost and chased down. 

The older boy says he loves the scout commander. He also loves Hyunwoo, the Supreme’s son, and has no doubt he will one day be the greatest leader the pack has ever had. Hyungwon has no doubt too – just by the way Minhyuk speaks of those he respects he is sure he can trust those people with his life.

The problem lies in whether the human boy can receive the same trust back. 

They stop by the central tent, tall and wide and beautiful and guarded by a strong man with long hair and teeth necklace falling on his chest. Minhyuk has to slightly raise his head to speak to him. 

“The Supreme’s waiting for us.”

The wolfman by the entrance nods and steps away, opening the curtain. He knows, and the whole pack knows, and Hyungwon can only hope their hostile stares can soon clear out with acceptance. 

They enter the tent. To Hyungwon, it looks similar to advice rooms the king has in his castle, where he plans the next step during the war with his most trusted men. Around the table in the middle, men and women are gathered talking, but all the noise stops as soon as the two boys step inside. The Supreme rises from his chair. 

“Minhyuk, Hyungwon,” he greets them, and when the human boy doesn’t take a step forward, Minhyuk lightly pushes him towards the table. He quickly bows. “Glad to see you both rested. Please,” the Supreme gestures over the table, spread out maps covering the surface. Hyungwon recognises the vast land of Losdór, the division between the Kingdom and Summerfall and territories lying much, much further than the mountains they inhabit. The human boy has a vague idea about what the meeting will be about.

He stands in front of the table, and the elders closest to him slightly step away, clearing the space on either side. Minhyuk quietly huffs and stands behind him, still keeping his distance, but Hyungwon is grateful – just hearing the boy’s breathing is comforting.

“Is… Changkyun going to be here?” He asks, and his voice comes out barely confident. The dark thoughts and bleak hopes never leave him mind in the moments of pressure. He somehow manages not to cower under the weight of dozen wolf-like gazes.

“I will make my judgement better if my son is not present here.” Comes out a reply, and Hyungwon looks for the owner of the voice, finding the familiar face. Changkyun’s father seems much less intimidating when he is standing on the ground, losing Hyungwon in height, and the human boy nods and tries to inconspicuously spread his shoulders. 

“We are gathered here because one – or, rather, two – of us brought an enemy to our land, and they did so with good intentions,” the Supreme starts. “Hyungwon, you may know that trust is something incredibly valued not only within my pack, but within the entire wolfkind in general. Forming a trusting bond with a human isn’t something we necessarily,” he royally flails his wrist, taking a pause to find the right word, “condone.” Minhyuk’s eyebrow twitches. “There, therefore, stands an issue of either acceptance, or death. Since the latter is not a pleasant outcome for those close to you, you must understand that once you commit to one of ours, there is no way back. If you even dare step a foot back in the manland as part of them, you are to face death. You do not belong to us, but you do not belong to them anymore either. And if the trust you want us to have for you beyond the heartfelt level, like the younger generation tends to do,” Minhyuk’s eyes roll, “then you have to prove it.”

Hyungwon swallows down the bloody and bitter taste in his mouth and nods. “I understand.”

“It’s not the question of your good nature and loyalty to my pack, it’s the question of what you’re willing to share to prove it. It’s the information that can save your life.”

Even if he follows the command, even if he swears on his own blood to fight for the wolves and stay loyal to their kind, even if there are those who want to protect him, there is no guarantee he won’t be stabbed and thrown off the mountain like a rag doll. He can wind up dead at any moment, and nothing and no one will save him.

Hyungwon inhales, keeping the air inside, and nods again. He looks into the Supreme’s eyes with commitment he never knew he was capable of. He points a finger on an unmarked territory on the map. It’s on the south of the Kingdom, right by the valley that separates the Goblin and Summerfall Mountains. “The Gnome Hills. There are numerous hunting villages lying close to the valley, but they are surrounded by miles and miles of forest. Hunters have been marking these trees for generations, they know it like the back of their own hands.” There are certain emotions mixed on the wolves’ faces as they perceive Hyungwon’s words and hear their own speech. A little more time, and he’ll speak just as well as Minhyuk and Changkyun soon enough. “The hunters there use broadhead arrows made out of special steel, but the stock is rather miserable. It is hard for them to attain tools as the village they live in is the one they built on their own. These arrows are light and they fly far, and because the winds are not too strong, they pose real danger in wide empty spaces.”

“Strategies?” The Supreme asks.

“They hunt in numbers. If it is within their territory, they go by foot. If they go to the valley, they use the dogsled. They feed animal meat to their litters and, uh, cross… crossbreed, so their dogs are faster and scarier than normal dogs.”

“There are crosses of the known locations by the South Mountains, but every time we send our scouts there, they don’t always come back.” One of the intimidating-looking wolves speaks out. The South Mountains are a deadly place. They lie by the other side of the Gnome Hills, and the empty and ice-covered land stretches far across the country. Once out in the open, it’s hard to find a place to hide. Minhyuk and Changkyun barely survived. They were lucky they ran far enough to find the woods where Hyungwon used to live.

“Hunters inhabit these mountains all the time. We call them Lossoth, the snowmen, because they survive even in the deadliest blizzards. This right here,” Hyungwon taps on the foot of a mountain, where the picture is cross-less, “is Tiger Lair. Where used to be caves, now there are cabins built to keep the hunters when they go out in the plain. They do not live there due to risks of avalanche, but they do travel rather frequently. Majority of them come from the Western Mountains, which is close to where my family lives, and I am familiar with their hunting tools.”

“Where does your family live?”

Hyungwon taps in the middle of a forest drawing, area clean and unmarked as no wolves have ever gotten close to it. “It is mainly uninhabited.”

“You were talking about hunting tools.”

“The hunters in the Tiger Lair use stone arrows and spikes. They are heavy, so they require short distance, but the blizzards do not disturb the run. They sharpen them very carefully, and once they… pene–penetrate the flesh, it is hard to remove them.” It was the thick stone arrow that pierced Changkyun back then. Hyungwon knows there is still a small white line left from the scar when he carefully sewed the flesh together after all the disease was out. 

“How do we attack?”

“What is their weakest point?”

“Where else do they hide?”

Hyungwon answers every question as truthfully as he can. Sometime between the explanations, he notices the strange tranquility in his heart he never felt before when talking about the hunters. It is a scarily calming realisation that he doesn’t feel even a teardrop bad about betraying the human race. 

And yet, despite committing the biggest treason known in the Kingdom he no longer belongs to, he knows he will never be fully accepted by the kind that’s not his own, no matter how hard he tries to prove his love and inhuman loyalty to the two wolves that were never meant to trust him in the first place. 

“What are the chances they’ll find us in a changed form?”

“High, very high.” Hyungwon tries not to think about the way Taewon’s eyes glinted with destructive fire and his nostrils flared when all he was focused on was killing the two wolves. “Even as people you have a distinctive smell that hunters can recognise from the distance.”

“What do we smell like to humans?”

“I… I do not really know.” Hyungwon quietly confesses. Feeling a few curious gazes on him, he lowers his head. Even Minhyuk peeks from behind, confused. “I lost most of my sense of smell a long time ago.” He feels Minhyuk’s face change from confused to almost shocked and he wonders if what Jaewon said back then in the kitchen was true. “I only recognise flowers and… herbs.” He inhales through gritted teeth, embarrassed, and he feels bad, bad that he cannot be of help. “I am sorry, I do not know what wolves smell like.”

There is something akin to a smile on the Supreme’s face. “You’ve helped enough.”

By the way he lightly waves him off without signalling for anyone to move, Hyungwon knows he is saved for another while. When he turns around to leave, Minhyuk steps forward. “I need to ask something, wait for me outside,” the wolf boy whispers into his ears and nods towards the opened curtain. All Hyungwon can do is listen and exit the tent, squint at the bright yellow sun and breathe in a lungful of sweet air. The realisation of what he’s just done is coming to him slowly, washing off his mind like waves on sand. 

And he isn’t stupid, he knows he is nothing more than a source, a spy, a mediator of some sort to the wolves, and yet he still hopes, hopes for the better, hopes for the future with the two boys and hopes to stay in a place they call home. Even if he himself doesn’t have a place to come back to, he is happy someone he loves, does.

“It’ll be prepared for you when the time is right.”

“Thank you.”

Hyungwon turns around when he hears vague whispers behind the tent curtain. Minhyuk steps outside and immediately smiles, hops to the human boy and wraps an arm around his shoulders, leading him away from the tent. 

“It’s a good day today! You did well, Hyungwon,” Minhyuk cheerfully says, and his eyes crinkle at the burning sun. 

Hyungwon doesn’t want to share the useless worries – they won’t save anyone. “Why did you stay?”

The wolf boy carelessly waves off his free hand. “Just family business. It’s so warm, I’m about to melt to the ground.” He fans his face, and suddenly, his eyes light up with an idea. “Let’s go to the river! Bet you haven’t been in the water since you were a baby.”

With that, his steps speed up, and Hyungwon nearly stumbles over his feet when the arm around his shoulders presses to the back of his neck. He briefly thinks that his heart lets go of all the stones and thorns in its chambers way too quickly when Minhyuk is there. 

 

The way to the river is a little journey down a steep hill and careful bounces along a rocky path. Minhyuk balances on the stones like he’s done it many times before, and Hyungwon can’t help the short laughs in his throat whenever he nearly slips. The wolf boy always turns around to check, and there is always a wide, beautiful smile blooming on his face whenever he sees the other giggle. In the past week, a laughing Hyungwon has been a rare sight.

The river Minhyuk brought him to is more like a stream, wide enough to swim but shallow and full of rocks, but the human boy doesn’t mind – it has been years since he last saw a running brook. And the water, it’s deep-deep blue, unreal, magical, unlike anything Hyungwon has seen before. The grass under his feet is damp, and he carelessly plops on the ground without much thought, exhausted from the walk. He still hasn’t eaten anything, but the constant reminder of his situation doesn’t let him ask for food like he’s a familiar in here. 

“No, no sitting down!” Minhyuk shouts, standing up from where he squatted by the water to check the temperature. “You’re swimming with me!”

Hyungwon releases a sound between a groan and a whine, closing his eyes and slumping to the side. Minhyuk grabs his wrists and pulls him upwards, but the human boy slips out of his wet hold and remains on the ground, expression nearly tortured. The other takes his hands in his gently this time and lightly swings them side to side, looking at Hyungwon with a tiny pout. 

“Come on,” Minhyuk quietly pleads. “It’s fun.”

Hyungwon knows at the top of his heart that he can never say no to the wolf boy in front of him. He sighs and attempts to get up, and in a moment, Minhyuk’s face gleams with a new smile, and he tugs him up, successfully getting him on his feet. 

Without further ado, Minhyuk discards the pants on the ground and runs into the river, leaving nothing but splashes after himself. Hyungwon has a strange urge to cover his eyes. Where the boy stands, the water barely reaches his thighs, and Minhyuk takes a deep breath and sinks down, until all that’s left of him is a messy head. 

He breathes out shakily, immediately swimming around and moving all his limbs to stay warm. “Come on,” he calls in an excited yet strained voice, exhaling with a funny sound. Hyungwon can’t help but see a little puppy waddling around in the water. 

He tentatively pulls the shirt over his head, and his hands automatically reach for his forearms, rubbing and hiding his chest. Even if he feels drops of sweat gathering on his nape and forehead, he still braces himself for the cold in any circumstance. He briefly thinks it’s not something he will ever get rid of. 

Minhyuk has already warmed up and is waiting in the river with a little smile on his face. Hyungwon drops the pants off his legs, staying the braies he didn’t expect the wolves to have, and deciding that he is fine just like that, he takes a step into the water. 

The cold finds its way up his body slowly, and when he’s knees-deep, his mouth involuntarily opens to release a shuddering exhale. The stones under his feet are slippery, and he’s already regretting ever saying ‘yes’ to the older wolf boy. 

“Come on,” Minhyuk calls him, smile growing bigger with every small step the human boy takes. When the ends of his undergarments get wet, his groan is bordering on an angry shout. 

“Cold,” he cries out and hisses, stepping further despite the aching sensation all over his legs. The skin under his palms turns rough as goosebumps quickly crawl up his body, and the hairs on his forearms stand up, just as shocked at the icy-icy water. 

But Minhyuk takes none of that. He grabs the chance to swim a little closer to the struggling boy while the other is not watching, raises slightly over the water and splashes Hyungwon with all the strength he has. 

The human boy is too frozen processing what just happened to get mad at Minhyuk straight away. His body starts shivering before his impossibly round shocked eyes shrink to their normal size and his mouth closes with a click. 

“You are dead,” he whispers and takes a big step into the water, shouting at the inhuman cold. Minhyuk’s initial laugh turns into a yell when Hyungwon unexpectedly gets close, struggling but still swimming towards him. “Cold!” He cries out and reaches for the wolf boy’s neck, almost serious about drowning him. 

Minhyuk pretends to surrender and sinks underwater, escaping the trembling hold of Hyungwon’s hands. When he gets out, the human boy is still as dazed as before, barely keeping it together as he tries to fight the cold silently instead of screaming about his tortures for all the mountains to hear. 

“I am,” he shudders, “so cold.” He stutters, grabs Minhyuk by the shoulder and floats in the water, hoping for the other’s warm body to have an effect on him like it always does. 

Minhyuk smiles and sends a little splash into his face, wetting Hyungwon’s hair completely. 

“Say your prayers now,” he mutters and throws himself onto the howling wolf boy, only half-serious about drowning him now. After chasing each other from one shore to the other, he shortly notices that he’s not as cold as he was before. 

“I didn’t take any towels,” Minhyuk wheezes and exhales with a little fatigue in his voice. Even he managed to get tired after playing in the freezing water with a boy who has a surprising amount of energy for a bony human like himself.

Hyungwon groans. 

“It’s fine, the sun is up for a long time.” Minhyuk wraps his arms around the other’s neck and connects them at the chest – for warming up purposes. “We’ll dry out quickly.” 

Hyungwon hugs him around the waist and rests his chin on the wet shoulder, enjoying the faint feeling of warmth seeping from the other. He wishes his entire life has been as careless as it is at the moment. 

They float in the water for another good while, until both of them gets shivers. Minhyuk runs out of the river and falls on the grass without bothering with clothes, and Hyungwon has a hard time walking to his pile in fully soaked braies. He gathers the other’s pants and throws them on his hips, getting an unhappy ‘oi!’ in return. 

He settles next to the lying boy and waits for the sun to warm him up again. 

 

“Hyungwon,” Minhyuk shows his voice after a while, pulling him out of his daydream. They’re already dressed, and they’re lying quietly beside each other, enjoying the bleaking rays of sun. It has started to come down, slowly disappearing behind the surrounding mountains. “Why are you afraid?”

The question hits unexpectedly. Hyungwon looks to the side, admiring the other boy’s gently curving side profile. “Why do you think I am afraid?”

Minhyuk swallows, and his Adam’s apple moves up and down like a little wave. “I can sense that you’re afraid. It’s like,” he turns to look at Hyungwon back, “you’re afraid to show that what’s keeping you here is love.”

The human boy’s heartbeat picks up. He is sure the wolf hears every single change. “I am not,” he eyes move to the clear blue sky, “afraid.”

“When you said you wanted to protect us,” Minhyuk approaches from a different side, “it was heroically romantic.”

Hyungwon breathes out a silent laugh. “I wish I was a hero.” It’s sad that he is not. 

“You are like a hero to me.”

He doesn’t know what to reply to that. He closes his eyes and egotistically wishes for his life to be as simple as that of a bird. He wants to sing his morning songs and catch worms and insects and love whoever he wants to love. He wouldn’t have to fight to keep himself alive – if he is shot, he is shot dead for good. 

“Hyungwon,” Minhyuk calls again, “when did you fall in love with me?”

When the word ‘love’ falls from someone else’s lips, his heart sinks to the bottom of his stomach. And he knows Minhyuk knows he loves him, and Changkyun just as much, and he knows they love him back, but it’s not easy to say, it’s never easy to say. Not when he couldn’t ever say such a word to the people he considered his family. 

And when he hears the distant birds sing their happy songs, he opens his eyes and prepares to say the truth. 

“I cannot remember the exact moment the thought materialised in my head as clear as the day. Maybe when I saw how caring you are, maybe when I talked to you for hours on end, maybe when,” he stops as the blurry picture in the frame of a tiny keyhole paints itself in his mind again. Sometimes he wishes he could talk to the wolves like wolves can talk to each other – without words. “When I realised I care for you more than I ever cared for anybody before.”

Minhyuk smiles, because Hyungwon did not reject his question. “And Changkyun?”

“And Changkyun.” He simply agrees, and a little involuntarily smile curves in the corner of his lips. He misses the younger boy. “I cannot separate the feeling I have for both of you.”

The wolf boy rises on his elbows, searching for Hyungwon’s eyes, and when he finds them, there is the same gentle smile on his face. “Hyungwon,” and the human boy thinks the other likes calling his name like it’s what he was always meant to do, “I love you.”

Hyungwon only has one heart, a small human heart, but with the way it immediately started thrashing against his chest, he feels like he has two inhumanly big wolf hearts fighting for the place behind his rib cage. He has never heard those words sound as beautiful as they did flowing from Minhyuk’s gentle petal lips. 

If he were a character in a book about knights, and dragons, and heroic deeds, and princes, and love, he could probably call his life a romance. 

The sun moved behind the tall summit of a mountain, and when the golden sun rays sparkle for the very last minute, Minhyuk leans impossibly close, breathing out the most tender smile right into Hyungwon’s lips. 

Their mouths touch softly-softly, like Minhyuk is the sun ray, like he is the warm light that glides over his skin. And to Hyungwon, this is the heaven’s embrace, ephemeral, beyond the earth and above simple human pleasures, gone with the tiniest flutter of the wind. 

Except this time, Minhyuk doesn’t leave, doesn’t intend on letting go. He kisses tenderly, but the touch is palpable, real, everlasting. He closes his lips around Hyungwon’s, kisses, actually kisses, and only when he detaches for the quickest of seconds to caress the bitten bottom lip, does Hyungwon whisper the quietest confession he’s been meaning to say for so long. 

The chaste ‘I love you’ dissipates into another kiss, into another gentle touch. Minhyuk kisses longer, tasting and savouring on the surface, sweet and loving and virtuous, and Hyungwon feels his body fall apart like petals of a dying rose.

He reaches forward, connecting them tightly-tightly, damping the dry touches with deeper kisses, uncontrollably wanting to drown in the painting of a blasphemous romance he found himself a part of. 

Changkyun, when he loves, kisses crazily and hungrily, desiring passion and fervency in the same amount back. Minhyuk, when he loves, kisses like every touch is a gift, like the lips of the boy beneath him are the most precious thing in the world, like they’re tender, like clouds. 

And to Hyungwon, these feelings unite together like puzzle pieces, logically, like it’s exactly how it’s meant to be. Hyungwon, he fits in between because he can’t help but want and love both equally. 

Minhyuk separates them, leaving only a small space between their lips, and smiles, smiles warmly and fondly. His eyes light up the clearest brown, and the sun makes his golden skin shine, and Hyungwon think he’s never seen anything more beautiful. This time, he doesn’t resist gently stroking the hollow cheek. 

Seeing how dazed the human boy is, Minhyuk smiles wider, showing his teeth and little dimples on his blushing cheeks, and falls on the ground next to the other, sighing with a quiet laugh. Hyungwon brings his hand to his chest, feels the same rapid heartbeat and, feeling a tiny smile tugging at the corners, closes his eyes. He hears the wolf boy rub the back of his head on the grass, trying to live up the tingling excitement in his body, and his limbs flail up and down. 

And even though it was not, it felt like their first kiss. The one that brings out lopsided involuntary smiles and spreads rosy blush down to the chest. 

Hyungwon doesn’t see the other boy but he hears him move, hears him sit up and crawl closer to the lake, hears the grass rustle and hears a softened thud right next to him. 

“Look, it’s you,” Minhyuk says over his head, and Hyungwon opens his eyes, squinting at the golden rays that slowly paint the sky in cloudy pink and coral. There is a flower in the other boy’s hand – a delicate curled green stem and a dainty drooping head of white petals. Hyungwon sits up, stunned. He hasn’t seen snowdrops in a very, very long time. 

He carefully takes the flower from Minhyuk’s hand, admiring it like it means something special. “Is it spring already?”

The other nods, cocking his head to the side and glancing between the strangely wistful human boy and the flower. “Spring starts early here.”

Hyungwon looks around, over the green blooming forest and flowing river and clear colourful sky and Minhyuk’s comfortably bare torso, and his nose clogs up. He doesn’t let it get to him, tries not to show the almost painful melancholy in his chest, but when his eyes meet Minhyuk’s, he is sure he understands. 

It is the first change of season he’s witnessed in ten years. 

 

The nights in the mountains are quiet, almost scarily so. Hyungwon was asked to spend it alone this time, in a tiny tent closer to the village. Yellow dots of torches blink inside through the thin dark purple curtains and calm him down, giving him a sense of security. He had a tough evening – after dinner, the Supreme called him for a private talk with the two of them and a few elders. As Hyungwon later realised, those weren’t just the guardians of peace; those were military commanders. Or, more like, the wolves’ analogue of those. 

They discussed the battle plans, the weaknesses and the strengths of both armies, the causes and solutions of the conflict, and Hyungwon, who has never been to war but read so many books about brave knights and blood-thirsty kings, felt like a tragic hero of the same old fairy tales.

His heart sank at the words ‘go into battle’, catapulted at him like a command. The Supreme wanted him to fight alongside them not like one of theirs, but as a human with a sword and a shield, like a brave chevalier in armour, like a man worthy of love of those he was never allowed to have. And Hyungwon, inspired and terrified at the same time, raised his head high and proudly announced of his readiness to follow the army of wolves. 

The Supreme smiled down at him, nodded, telling him that he’d assign men to train him, and let him go.

And because the night is silent and safe, Hyungwon hears the approaching whispering of grass through his tentative slumber. He found out he wasn’t good at falling asleep on his own.

But even the swishing of the curtain doesn’t drag him out of his sleep, the quiet crawling over the pillows only makes him frown, and the sudden shadows over his face don’t alarm his deadly tired body and mind. He slowly slips back into reality when there is light weight on his thighs, and someone’s warm breathing hits his face.

Hyungwon barely blinks his eyes open and gasps out of mute fear at the face in front of him. 

“Hey,” the face – that belongs to a man – smiles, and Hyungwon’s eyes widen, and he is frozen, stuck between fighting his paralysis and wanting to move, thrash, run. 

“Please don’t scream!” The man hushly says, curling his eyebrows and waving his hands, shushing the scared human. Hyungwon, for an unknown reason, listens and stays how he is, wide eyes staring at the very wide-shouldered man occupying his hips. His shoulders are so wide and his arms are so thick the boy wasn’t immediately sure the gentle pleading face and the soft pleasant voice belong to the same body. 

“Who,” Hyungwon doesn’t get to finish the question as he swallows down his nervousness instead. He feels the initial tremor die down when the man, who actually looks really young and unsurprisingly pretty, smiles again, showing his impossibly white teeth. Hyungwon finds himself staring at the small stuck out ears, almost cocking his head to the side in confusion at the way the gloomy light of the torches seeps through them.

“Thank you,” the man seems content with his calmed down state and unceremoniously sits over his hips, releasing Hyungwon’s head from the trap of his muscular arms. “I’m Hoseok.” He smiles wider, and his eyes almost sparkle with excitement the human boy cannot yet share.

“I am Hyungwon,” he utters automatically, still staring at the stranger in his tent with big eyes.

“I know,” he sounds kind, Hoseok. He sounds like he’s speaking to an equal. “Take me fighting with you!” He exclaims in the same hushed voice and almost bounces, and Hyungwon’s eyes widen to an impossible size. “They wouldn’t let me because I’m a stray but I thought if I talked to you first, you would be able to affect their decision.” He rambles quickly-quickly, and sleepy Hyungwon is still stuck on the very first word he said.

“Fighting?”

“Fighting!” When the human boy still doesn’t fully understand, Hoseok sighs, albeit keeping the soft smile on his face. “I was passing by the Supreme’s tent and heard you discussing battle plans against humans. You see, it’s a real fight, and I’m a gatherer, so if I go fighting they might devote me to the army, and then they’ll accept me as Hyunwoo’s chosen one, but it’s really hard for me because I’m a stray, so I need your help.” He babbles just as fast, and all Hyungwon could take was the name of the man he met the day before. 

When he doesn’t reply, Hoseok’s smile sinks just a little bit, and the human boy almost sees his ears droop. “Do you… catch up?”

Hyungwon honestly shakes his head a no.

“Well, I’m a stray.” He pauses and looks at the boy carefully, making sure this important piece of information doesn’t escape his overworked mind. “Normally, the commanders let the volunteers into the battle if they want to, but because I’m a stray, I can’t.” Hyungwon nods and sits up, deciding that lying under a talking wolf is impolite. Their noses nearly bump, and the boy jerks back. “You see, if I go fighting, I will be able to gain the Supreme’s trust, and he’ll accept me as Hyunwoo’s chosen one.”

This is where Hyungwon blinks and lightly shakes his head. “Hyunwoo?”

Hoseok smiles, and his eyes light up. “Hyunwoo! We’re lovers.” He casually states.

Hyungwon’s eyes widen again, and he feels blush creeping up his cheeks. He mentally curses his body for reacting the way it does to such words when he himself has not one, but two boys that he loves as much as they love him. Or so he hopes.

“As I was saying,” Hoseok continues, “the Supreme doesn’t like me because I’m a stray and form a union with his son, so I need to fight to prove my worth.” He sighs, “It’s a cruel world, but this is how it works. I don’t have to fight,” he emphasises, and Hyungwon thinks that at this point, Hoseok is blathering to himself, “but there is a difference between being a stray gatherer and the Supreme’s son, so I’m really-really struggling. I love him, but if I can’t fight now, I won’t ever find another opportunity. So!” Hoseok suddenly exclaims, “let me go fighting with you!”

Hyungwon swallows, trying to process the big load of information he didn’t expect in the middle of the night. “But how?”

Hoseok’s smile seems even bigger. “Talk to them! To the Supreme and the commanders, if you’re going into the battle, it means they would listen to you. At least try, please,” he pouts, and his imaginative ears droop further, “for me.” He looks down, and Hyungwon feels bad for not immediately jumping up and running to the Supreme’s tent with the only purpose to make Hoseok happy. He’s only known him for a few minutes, but he would lay his bow and arrows for him and his incredibly defined physique. “I really love him.” Hoseok quietly says, and Hyungwon inhales sharply, pierced through the heart with the inhuman sincerity in the wolf’s soft voice. 

“Hoseok,” Hyungwon quietly calls, and the other raises his head, hope so clear in the black glistening eyes even in the nightly darkness. “I will see what I can do.” He offers a smile, and Hoseok lights up again, and the ears Hyungwon can’t stop imagining perk up, and through the wide-wide smile he sees a cheerfully stuck out tongue. Changkyun and Minhyuk do it when they’re happy.

“Thank you!” And the human boy doesn’t expect the wolf to abruptly lean forward and embrace him, pressing him tightly into his heated bare chest. Hyungwon is stunned for a few second, but finds it in himself to bring his hands to the warm muscular back and hug the barely acquainted man.

Hoseok lets go, smiles the widest smile Hyungwon has ever seen and gets off his hips, and the human boy releases a breath he’s been holding to keep the painful groans inside the whole time the other was occupying his thighs. The new climate must make him grow numb quicker.

“I’ll see you around!” Hoseok says and disappears behind the curtain, leaving the human boy alone. 

And Hyungwon… Hyungwon doesn’t know what he’s gotten himself into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aranarth - kingdom in human language 
> 
> hoseok just went in for the last scene and became the mvp of the entire fic, i admire him
> 
> also about their name meanings in the beginning! i read a post abt those based on their chinese characters readings, i’m not sure how accurate all of it is but i thought it fits quite well regardless!!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well...... it's been a while. im so sorry the chapter took so long to write but i hope twenty six google pages in aries 12 make up for it
> 
> this entire chap is a flashback and if you're confused about the ages, it's in the end notes
> 
> i hope you enjoy nevertheless! please leave something if you do because it has been a bit tough with this one

“Minhyuk, wait!” The young boy shouted across the meadow. His voice ruffled the greening leaves of the surrounding tall pines, and the light summer breeze carried it to the running wolf. 

The other turned around, already just mere steps away from the edge of the high steep cliff, and smiled widely. “Hurry up!” He shouted back, bouncing on his feet. Where he stood, the towering pines protected the end of the woods and met the bright yellow sunshine. Minhyuk was a small stumble back away from greeting the midday’s sun. 

“Can’t!” The boy huffed and grimaced, miserable and exhausted as he stomped up the hill. Careless, he tramped a few dainty dandelions under his feet, and Minhyuk rolled his eyes. 

“Should’ve eaten when mother offered!”

The tired boy patted his soft bare stomach and breathed out an exasperated whine. “I ate too much!” He hoarsely sighed and closed his eyes, putting more and more effort the closer approached the other boy. His small waddling silhouette still seemed miles away. “Heavy.”

“Bet even your sister could get here faster–”

Minhyuk cut himself abruptly when fallen branches cracked in the distance, and someone’s rhythmic steps rustled the grass-covered ground. His eyes widened, and he ran down the hill, grabbed the younger wolf by the wrist and pulled him into the woods.

“What in dear heavens–”

Minhyuk shushed him. They hid behind a fat tree bark and crouched just in case too, freezing. Even their breathing stopped for a short moment before two figures stepped out of the forest to the other side of the tiny plain, walking right along the scary edge of the cliff. Squinting, Changkyun only then recognised the Supreme of their pack and the scouts commander, who stopped right where grass died out and revealed rough rocky sandstone. It took the boy all his willpower not to gasp. Minhyuk sneaked his hand around his wrist and gave it a light squeeze, silently pleading him to stay quiet, to not make a sound. 

“How many now?” The low voice of the Supreme reached their ears. He wasn’t angry, he wasn’t sad, he wasn’t terrified. He was just.. as if a little hopeless, as hopeless as a man could be standing on top of a dangerous cliff. 

“Taecyeon confirmed seven last week. Three are being searched for.” The commander replied, desolate but unbreakable, delivering information like a rightful leader. His shoulders were never slumped, and the sharp slant never left his eyes. 

“Shinwon’s son was one of them.” The Supreme said. Overlooking the mountains and forests stretching below them for endless miles, they thought that without their sacrifices, the land would have been emptied centuries ago. 

“He isn’t confirmed dead, the scouts are looking for him along with the remaining children.”

Before the Supreme spoke out again, there was a breezy pause between them. “And so young,” he lightly shook his head, “seventeen, just barely a man.”

“The Second Chief Commander Yoon suggests we increase the age boundary for recruitment.”

“Won’t save desperate young boys from running away with the only desire to save the world.” The Supreme sighed with a firm chest and a solid jaw and turned to look at the commander. “We will figure it out.” He walked behind the other in the direction he came from. “I trust you to fight the bastards.”

When the Supreme left, it turned anxiously quiet again. The commander breathed in and out and rid of his clothes, smoothly transforming and running along the edge. He jumped down where the sandstone formed a crumbling rocky path towards the bottom, and only after the sound of broken off pebbles stopped, did the wolf boys swallow and loudly inhale.

“Terrifying,” Minhyuk whispered.

“He left his trousers there,” Changkyun whispered back. The other wolf turned to give him a shrewd glance, eyes slightly squinted with a note of judgement, before they landed on their linked hands. Changkyun looked at Minhyuk’s long fingers wrapped around his wrist and blinked, and the older boy let go quickly and looked straight ahead to prevent the younger from noticing the soft blush blooming on his cheeks.

“He said seven dead,” Minhyuk recalled pensively, bringing his bent pointer finger to his chin. The younger wolf shivered at the last word. “That’s bad.”

Changkyun gave him the kind of lingering look that was both skeptical and almost admiring. “Are you thinking about something I won’t like?” He asked in a low nasal voice, precautious, as if warning the other boy definitely not to think about something he wouldn’t have liked. 

“You know, Kyunnie, my sense of smell is very good,” Minhyuk started off thoughtfully, and before Changkyun could reply, nodded and said affirmatively, “I could be of help where one of yours couldn’t.”

By that he always meant the wolves that had grown up in a pack, those who had always been protected, those who more often than not feared to fight. Minhyuk had seen it – the look of cowardice on wolves’ faces, the rejection of justice and overprotective flaps of arms over their children. They believed the land they lived in would have remained untouched. Peaceful. 

But Minhyuk never believed in peace.

“I think one of mines,” Changkyun emphasised the possessive pronouns with a click of the tongue, “is doing a perfectly good job at looking for the lost scouts.”

And Minhyuk never believed in others either. His father taught him not to. He was not in search of peace, was not keen on approaching the humankind and fight their politics with those of the wolves, but he was honest, and he knew the power of weapons. And yet he fought, for his family, for Minhyuk, for his mother, for his brother, and those who were not strong enough to defend themselves yet or anymore. He was never the one for worldly peace. But to him, protecting those he loved was no different from a sacred command. 

When he was lost – they did not use any other words – Minhyuk was only a little boy. And before his mother forcefully bit him by the scruff and lead their pack to the land she deemed safe, he swore to search, to fight, to protect, to revenge. If his family were to get lost, he would have never trusted others to do what had always been meant to be his duty. And he couldn’t dare imagine his mother among the bloodied frozen bodies of his people. 

“We shall enroll into the scouting corps.” Minhyuk decisively announced, accompanying his words with a smile. 

Changkyun curled his eyebrows at him. “But it is dangerous.” He was still growing and had to raise his head to look Minhyuk in the eyes. But even the short height didn’t prevent him from using his mature voice to establish his position. His father wasn’t an elder and a military commander for nothing. “Besides, my parents wouldn’t let me,” he crossed his arms in front of his chest, “I am the next one in the council of elders.” He finished with a note of pride and even turned his head in the other direction. 

Minhyuk looked at the younger boy like he was a clumsy thief caught in action. A thief that fell from an apple tree. “Changkyun.” The other wolf didn’t show any signs of interests other than the slight twinkle in his irises. He looked and sounded mature for his age, but only Minhyuk knew Changkyun was still a pup deep inside. “I know you don’t want to take after your father.”

Changkyun dropped his posture and sighed at him, slumping. “But who else? I won’t let them take my sister into the cage of obligations and responsibility.” He looked at Minhyuk almost pleadingly, silently asking him not to persuade him into doing things he didn’t feel positive about. And Minhyuk, he was good at persuading, and Changkyun had the tendency to listen to every single word he uttered. 

The older wolf stepped closer, chests almost touching were they on the same level. He put his hands on the Changkyun’s bare shoulders. “What are you afraid of?” He asked, looking the younger right in the eyes. Over the years of dealing with the boy who grew silent as soon as a new figure appeared, Minhyuk learned to read all his answers by the wet flickers in his pupils. “Death?” 

Changkyun froze, stopped breathing for a short second, but gathered himself quickly, hoping Minhyuk didn’t see the cowardly hesitation flash in his eyes. But Minhyuk always saw everything. “This isn’t what should be pulling you away,” he said in a voice gentler than before. “In fact, the prowling risk of death should be dragging you into it.” His fingers clutched the soft forearms tighter. “Can you even bare to imagine what could happen to your mother? Or Hyejoo? Who, if not you, could protect them when every single family in the pack is in the same state of freezing fear, chained to the shelter of their seemingly shielded homes by danger? While you have something to fight for, you should take every single risk you can, Changkyun.” 

Minhyuk spoke restlessly, growing emotional over his own words. He didn’t notice the grip of his hands growing too tight, discomforting Changkyun. The younger wolf softly circled around Minhyuk’s wrists to detach the fingers from his reddening skin. 

“It’s not what I'm most afraid of,” he said quietly, looking down. 

“Then what is it?”

Changkyun hesitated but didn’t show the thin wound of vulnerability on the outside. It was weepingly quiet around them. He didn’t have to raise his voice for Minhyuk to hear everything. “You will be allowed to recruit next year. For me, I still have another year.” He raised his eyes, softened and a little tired, like all that was filling his head at the moment was doom. “What am I going to do?” He asked quietly. “Who will protect you? I can’t…” He shook his head, sighing and looking down again, “lose you.”

Minhyuk thinned his lips in a sympathetic smile, looking down too. He wasn’t sure what to reply. “It’s sixteen, isn’t it?” Changkyun nodded. Minhyuk thought for a little bit, gathering his wits, and patted the younger boy on the shoulder. “Let’s talk about it with Hyunwoo.” And he stepped back onto the meadow, widely marching his way back. “He knows a lot!” He shouted over his shoulder, and Changkyun could only quickly follow behind him.

 

Down in the village, sitting on a porch in front of his hut, Hyunwoo was chewing on a basket of nectarines and plums in silence, eyes fixed on something invisible in the distance. He was thinking, and he needed his man form for thinking, and he needed food for thinking too. Can’t think on an empty stomach, was his motto. 

Minhyuk and Changkyun caught him with the mouthful of fruits. “Hyunwoo!” Minhyuk shouted, waved and sprinted down fast, getting to the settlement in a blink of an eye. Changkyun ran behind him with hurried little steps. 

Hyunwoo smiled with juice dripping down his chin. “Morning.”

The older of the boys plopped on the step next to him and eyed the basket of freshly gathered fruits. Hyunwoo hummed around the seed in his mouth, sticky juice running down his forearms to the elbows, and indicated for the wolves to take some.

Changkyun slid on the other side of him. “What can I help you with today, boys?” Hyunwoo frowned and sipped the fruity flesh into his mouth. When the round ridged bone was naked, he put it into a pile by his hip. 

“So,” Minhyuk started, chewing loudly, “how much do you know about the scouting troops?”

Hyunwoo bit another nectarine, and the juice sprayed from his mouth and slowly dripped down his chin. He wiped it with a hand. “Everything.” His jaws moved a couple of times before he swallowed. “Why?”

“Well, Me and Changkyun have been thinking,” Minhyuk stretched and leaned forward to look over at the younger wolf. The latter, immersed in biting a succulent purple plum in his hands clean, looked up and nodded enthusiastically with the fruit in his mouth. So enthusiastically it didn’t seem like Changkyun at all. “We’ve been thinking, that maybe, just maybe, we would like to recruit.” Minhyuk nodded to confirm his words. 

Hyunwoo, he was a man, grown and gone through thousands of trips into the enemy’s territory, battled and trained and training the same young wolves like Minhyuk and Changkyun to run fast without looking back. Hyunwoo, he was considered the next leader, strong and reliable and able to lead the pack to safety after his father’s passing. But Hyunwoo, he was in love with a stray and hoped to protect the same young wolves like Minhyuk and Changkyun fully on his own. Because he didn’t want them lost. 

“It’s a dangerous thing, scouting,” he said, pensively chewing. 

“Yes, but I am ready for danger!” Minhyuk straightened and hit his flat soft chest with a sticky fist. “One can say, danger is what made strays like myself into what we are.” He said proudly, and Changkyun, hiding behind Hyunwoo’s big hunched form, curved his eyebrows. 

Hyunwoo had known Changkyun since he was born. He had known Minhyuk since the little ten-year-old heathen joined their pack and hid around in the shadows the first few weeks after settling into his new home. He saw them both grow, at first separately, then together. When little Changkyun brought little Minhyuk, finally dressed and without a deep frown between his eyebrows, to Hyunwoo’s hut by the hand, the older man knew it was a friendship that couldn’t be broken. Minhyuk, if he was determined, stayed determined, and nothing could ever change his mind, not even Changkyun’s chubby cheeks or his small fists aiming for Minhyuk’s face but never quite reaching it. 

“Our problem is, I can recruit next year, and Changkyun can’t,” Minhyuk took another bite and tore the flesh off the bone, smacking loudly. 

“Sixteen, grand event,” Hyunwoo said absentmindedly. All three stared into the distance, chewing and thinking their own thing. 

“Can Changkyun come with me?” Minhyuk asked cheerfully, glancing at Hyunwoo with his big-big eyes. Bigger than normal. 

“No.” Hyunwoo said, short and clear, but without any harshness. “You will have to wait another two years, Kyun.” He turned to the youngest wolf. The latter only silently nodded. 

“But can’t they make an exception?” Minhyuk asked almost indignantly, straightening and frowning. Hyunwoo raised an eyebrow at him. “I don’t feel comfortable anywhere without him.” The other wolf mumbled, deflating and hunching again. 

Hyunwoo softened, offering a little smile. After wiping his hands on the breeches, he patted the boy on the crooked back. “You can always recruit later, Minhyuk.”

That made the wolf pout, lower lip bulged and chin jutted forward. But he was big, nearly a grown-up, and couldn’t hide his face in his knees and curl into himself, like a child would. Instead he sighed, eyes gleaming with something sad. “It’s all right. Kyun will wait for me, right, little pup?” Minhyuk leaned forward to find a quietened Changkyun, who had been spacing out for most of the conversation. He was rolling a naked fruit bone in his palms. “Kyun?” 

The youngest wolf shrugged. Hyunwoo’s tender smile turned almost a little pitiful, and he tapped the small boy on the shoulder. “You know, if you want to be a scout, you will have to start talking to us.”

Minhyuk frowned. Changkyun stayed indifferent to the remark, and the older of the two took it upon himself to get irritated at every mention of Changkyun’s habit. Truthfully, the pack thought he was just habitually quiet. No one knew what it felt like to have the weight of their careless words being thrown at them in a form of dead warriors that chased after the human who was indignant enough to fool an eleven-year-old child. 

“You shouldn’t worry about that, Hyunwoo,” and yet Minhyuk dared not baselessly lout at the older man. 

Hyunwoo seemed to shrink, a hunch of his back growing just a little heavier. He tossed a new nectarine in the air, and when it landed on his palm again, the weight of his thoughts came tumbling down as well. “I only wish the best for you,” he said, passing the fruit to Changkyun. The other took it and started mindlessly tossing it between his hands. 

“And I wish the best for this pack,” Minhyuk announced confidently and stood up. “For wolfkind, for our kind. We may not share the same ideals, but we share the same blood.” When he talked, his boyish voice still high and raspy but so unbelievably stable, he was bigger than the animal he hid under his skin. “I’m not like other wolves, Hyunwoo, I want to protect what’s important to me, not carry an emblem of a warrior for my family to be proud of me.” In his black sharp eyes, there was always a glimmer of grandness uncharacteristic to young boys like him. Like a reflection of the Moon on the sleeping river in the night, like the light of the Sun on silver plates of the kings, like a single illuminated torch buried at the top of a snowy summit, gleaming from the great distance to let the lost wanderers know that they were not far from home. 

“How many of us have to die for our eyes to open?” But at the end of the day, he was still just a boy, and his questions spread in the weak summer’s breeze like cut off spider webs. 

Changkyun preferred to keep his eyes down, afraid of being able to count the inches Minhyuk grew by whenever another sparkle of blood-boiling hope rushed through his unsculptured body. He loved the skies and the birds and the clouds and the snowy summits behind them, but one thing he could never wish for was seeing Minhyuk among them in the blue plain above his head. 

“I’ll recruit this autumn.” The older wolf boy decidedly said, and it was like the skin over his round cheekbones sunk more into the hollows. 

 

Minhyuk was never the one to miss out on an opportunity to slip a joke, and until the very last day of autumn, Changkyun hoped for his best friend to laugh and playfully slap his shoulder as he announced the end of his pretence. 

But the leaves had fallen, and Minhyuk’s spirit had never come down from its chivalry. 

“Today is the day!” He exclaimed, victoriously raising a long wooden stick he found on the ground into the air. “Today I will become the defender of all the wolfkind.”

Changkyun was slapping his own wooden stick against the hard soil with every step, watching it chip and break like rotten bones. “Don’t be so ahead of yourself.” He remarked kindheartedly. Or, rather, he wished to say it kindheartedly. He didn’t mean for his voice to sound so spiteful. 

“Just wait a year, and we’ll be defenders together.” Minhyuk said, although less enthusiastically. He, too, started scrambling the ground with the end of the stick as they paced further away from the village into the forest – to spend some time alone, that is. Like they always did since they were children. 

“Right,” Changkyun grumbled and shook his head, thick crown of hair falling into his eyes. There were things he understood that he couldn’t quite explain with simple words. He looked for the positive sides of Minhyuk’s departure everywhere, and every single one of them had been revoked. He looked everywhere, in the birdnest, under the bush, on the roof of his hut, in his heart, and as much as he wanted to dress himself in the melancholy of a lone wolf, he resented losing his best friend for it. It wasn’t going to be a long parting, just until the first flowers bloomed in spring, but absolute solitude in winter always overwhelmed Changkyun.

“Come on, little pup, don’t be so spiteful.” Minhyuk said playfully, thoughtlessly, so when the younger wolf abruptly stopped and turned to him with a sharp squint of his eyes, Minhyuk twitched a little bit in surprise. 

“Stop calling me that.” Changkyun cut, stern and strong, very much meaning what he said.

Something in Minhyuk’s eyes snuffed out, like a candle flame that had been blown away. The other boy had never raised his voice at him like that. “I’m sorry, I just…” he mumbled, and his eyes did something Minhyuk had never allowed himself to do – look down. “You’re my little best friend, I thought you don’t mind–”

“Well, now I do.” Changkyun had always looked up at him from below, had always been the smallest wolf in the pack, but after years of hiding it, Minhyuk had forgotten how big and mighty his voice sounded. “I’m not little, I’m going to be the same height as you soon.” Changkyun sighed and tapped the long stick on the ground again. He began quietly, “You think you’re the greatest wolf in our mountains, act like you don’t know how vast and immense they really are, talk like all there is to me is just following your every step.” He kept his eyes on the ground, confident in his words but unsure of Minhyuk’s reaction. And Minhyuk listened, and with every timid reprimand shrank more and more into himself. 

“I don’t even want to join the scouts,” Changkyun muttered, soft as the rustle of the withering grass beneath their feet. “Only doing this because I feel torn when you’re not around.” His eyes wandered to the side, and the light wind gently ruffled his hair. When he harboured crystal melancholic glints in his black eyes, he looked peculiarly enchanting, and Minhyuk realised the yet indescribable need to remember this fragmented detail about the younger boy. “Get sick to my stomach when I think of the doom of our separation.”

Minhyuk felt the heart in his chest drop like a boulder, turning the rest of his organs to oozing mush. He was fire, Minhyuk, he was burning flames and ashen wood and call of war, and only Changkyun could extinguish the glowing heat within him with just a tiny drop of water. 

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I always assumed you wanted to go with me for the sake of our mutual goal.” 

And then he gave himself a second to think. To remember who he was and what dragged him forward, what force carried him up the invisible mountain he raised for himself like a god, what was in his sacred temple hidden in plain sight and only accessible to him and, despite the apparent mutiny, Changkyun. 

“But I won’t step out of my path.” Minhyuk looked up again, tracing the younger wolf’s deepening frown and tucked lip. “You know this is all I have ever wanted.” He took a step forward, towering over the shorter boy, and were he an animal, he would bare his teeth and raise his tail high. “You know,” he emphasised, “that I would lay my body and soul to protect my pack, my family, people I love, to protect—“ He held his breath, and his chest remained round, full of air. Changkyun didn’t look away, and in his eyes Minhyuk could see the dull flicker of anger and, very possibly, disappointment. When he exhaled, it was with a soughing murmur of, “you.”

Changkyun stole the released air with a sharp exhale of his own. “One day you have to learn to give up.” He rebuked, his hands curling into small fists. “One day you have to learn that in this world, we protect each other, and recklessly fighting on your own will only lead you to inevitable death.”

The side of Minhyuk’s mouth twitched in irritation. “If you weren’t a coward, you would go after me, as soon as you can.” He spat harshly as his hands started trembling with the strength with which he held his fists by his sides. 

The other wolf wanted to reply, it was apparent with the way his mouth moved and his brows jerked, but no words came out. Minhyuk, blinded by growing anger, took the silence as the cue to leave. And he never dared to leave when Changkyun grew silent. “The scouts are waiting,” he grumbled and took a step back, turning around. 

Changkyun breathed louder. “Minhyuk—“

He flung his shoulders to give the other one last response. “I hope you feel the doom from our separation—“

“I don’t want you to leave—“

“Since you’ve always had such a perfect—“

“You don't understand—“

“Life—“

“I need you alive—“

“Can’t even take care of!—“

Minhyuk never finished the uncontrollable burst of rage coming out of his mouth. Changkyun, the always so tiny Changkyun, jumped on his tiptoes and decreased the world in the other’s line of sight to his face, eyes childishly squeezed shut and nose bumping into his own. His thin lips tightly covered Minhyuk’s, frozen with words that never managed to leave. Changkyun kissed him, blindly and innocently and shortly, and in the miserable five seconds the dry touch lasted, Minhyuk’s mind clouded with idle questions and blurry realisations. His mother had always kissed his father goodbye before he went hunting. Hoseok always kissed Hyunwoo before they parted ways to prove their use to the pack in their own ways. Changkyun, he kissed his little sister’s head before he ran away playing with Minhyuk and teased her saying he would never come back. 

Minhyuk never wanted to kiss anybody because he always hoped those he cared for would come back, and that he would come back home too. When Changkyun stepped back on his heels and only glanced at him with eyes gleaming like water in the black of night, Minhyuk understood that the kiss meant more than he imagined. It was more like when his father kissed his mother before sleeping, like Hyunwoo kissed Hoseok when he couldn’t look away from his smile, like Changkyun held onto his hand not because he was scared of the dark, but because no one but Minhyuk could make him feel this safe. He never did anything to protect him with nocturnal creatures, and yet his sole presence was enough to calm his frenziedly beating wild heart. 

Changkyun turned around quickly, walking away without saying a word. Before the first syllable of his name could come off Minhyuk’s lips, the younger boy only distantly muttered, “Until the spring.”

Minhyuk swallowed. “What?” He faintly whispered. 

“Until the spring, you have to live.” The words dissipated in the air like dust that flew right into Minhyuk’s eyes. There was a sting, but he couldn’t move until the small figure of the other boy disappeared in the woods. The dry warmth of his lips lingered on his own, and Minhyuk was knowing enough to realise that Changkyun was giving him a reason to keep himself safe. 

There was a legend that wolves only kissed one partner for the rest of their lives. 

 

_Breathe, breathe, breathe, just breathe._

Minhyuk dropped on the rugged rocky ground, the sound of his falling body hollow and painful. His chest hurt – burned from the inside, like flames were sizzling within his ribcage, reaching for thrashing his heart with their firing fingers, biting into his lungs with heated swords. He opened his mouth, but no air sucked into his throat. And it was dry, rough like sandpaper, stinging with every attempt to steal one precious breath. 

He never knew what it meant to yearn for a breath of life until now. 

He wheezed, rolling onto his back. The sky was turning a calming lilac, darkening with every disappearing ray of sun. When they left the village for a run, the sun was high up above their heads. 

Before he could feel the gloom of unconsciousness take him away, he managed to inhale, and a thin stream of air spread along every little bubble in his lungs, extinguishing the fire. He breathed, rapidly, holding onto every shard of reality he could feel, distinguish. 

A young wolf hit the ground next to him, another one exhaled with a deafening sob, the third one crawled to the lake and greedily swallowed as much water as he could fit in his palms. 

Minhyuk found himself shaking. His lips were chapped, his eyes hazy from the tears that birthed from the pain in his ribcage, his legs and arms numbs and weak, so weak. He raised one hand to his chest, and it fell lifeless upon his pounding heart. 

When wolves reached their limits, their bodies forced themselves back into human forms for protection. Minhyuk didn’t know what to do when their human forms neared the deadly exhaustion too. 

The teachers said it was easier to maintain, but Minhyuk was convinced it was as much of a legend as human-loving wolves. 

“Clothe yourselves and get up,” the commander called, clapping his hands. Linen bags with clothes were tied carefully around their necks for the run, but Minhyuk couldn’t find the strength to move a finger. 

One of the older scouts, those who helped stage the entire chase, crouched next to him. “Oi, stray, you have to get up,” he said softly, without a note of rebuke. Wonwoo had been nice to Minhyuk; he patted him on the back when the younger was slouching with exhaustion during morning runs, handed him water and allowed him to stay in the bathhouse for a few minutes longer. Minhyuk wasn’t weak. He wasn’t, but he was narrower and scrawnier than some others and his limbs gave out faster than he’d wished. 

He managed to nod at Wonwoo and closed his eyes, gathering all the strength he had to sit up. He could hear the mad heartbeat in his ears, felt the blood bounce in veins on his neck. Before he could open his eyes, Wonwoo quickly ran to the lake, gathered a mouthful of water and sprayed it right over Minhyuk’s face. 

As unpleasant as it was, it helped him come to his senses. 

Changkyun would have done something similar, Minhyuk briefly thought. He trudged to the order point on trembling legs, and on his mind – his little pup’s tanned shoulder, small but sturdy enough to lean on. Changkyun’s lopsided smiles flashed before his eyes, the kind of smiles he showed him when they shared amused knowing glances, when they didn’t need words to know they schemed something together, when Minhyuk laughed in front of the older folks and the other wolf was too reserved to join, although the desire was too strong to ignore. 

Were Changkyun here, Minhyuk would have been stronger. If not for himself, then for his best friend. 

But the summits were covered in snow, the trees around them were dark and cold, the lake still and uninviting, and all the young scouts were bound to endure the yearly winter in linen tunics. 

Minhyuk didn’t understand how suffocating the loneliness was until he chose a separate path. Some said wolves in the scouting troops died alone. Minhyuk didn’t want to die any other way but with Changkyun by his side. 

And so the dreading solitude made him gather a lungful of air and gather all his courage in a fist. 

After supper, he sneaked into the commander’s tent. 

A lonely candle on the table was a sole indication that Commander Siwon wasn’t sleeping yet. It threw blinking orange light onto the heavy dark curtains, creating distorted shapes and infusing Minhyuk with a faint sense of fear. He was alert and quietly stepped towards the table, but no one seemed to be around. 

Among the scattered sheets of paper were a list of names of new recruits, maps of the valley and of Summerfall, letters, plots, schemes. Minhyuk, as curious as he was, dared not skim over the words that weren’t meant for him, and forced himself to look away, patiently waiting for the commander to come back. 

He had to think about what he was going to say to convince the toughest man in the pack to let him have his way. The longer he waited, the less hopes he had. He was already lucky enough to be among the training wolves – he hadn’t forgotten the conversation he accidentally overheard by the end of the cliff. He could have been lucky then, but the dark cloud of fear that Changkyun would never be able to join him any time soon floated above his head, slowly drinking the light out of him. 

Before Minhyuk could hear him, Commander Siwon stepped into the tent. “Ah, Minhyuk,” the man greeted, and the wolf boy turned around with a childish flinch, taken by surprise. He needed to stop walking on water and firmly put his feet on the ground. 

“I’m so sorry for such a late visit, Commander,” he stepped back and bowed, a little lower than his human form had to. Commander Siwon was a big man and a big wolf, made all the young scouts hold down their tails in respect and cower simply by walking past, and he was one of the high ranking wolves, the one all other subordinates listened to, and listened well. He was only missing a mate. Lost in the battle, a little bird said. Lost and never found again in the face of another. 

“Wandering around late is causing more harm to you than anyone else, Minhyuk,” the Commander smiled and sat at the table. Truthfully, he was a good man, and ever since Minhyuk joined the pack, had never shown a sign of hostility. “You must be tired.”

Minhyuk shook his head. “No, never, I don’t get tired,” he tried to reassure to show a sign of strength, but the Commander new sixteen-year-olds like Minhyuk inside out, and it was futile trying to fool him. 

The older man offered another smile. “What brings you here now, Minhyuk?”

The boy’s eyes accidentally fell on the list of names, and he swallowed, trying to formulate his pledge as straightforward as he could. “You are probably aware that I’m here alone,” he closed his eyes and frowned, displeased. Clenching his fists behind him, he continued nevertheless, “and that my best friend – Changkyun, everyone knows Changkyun,” he sighed with a silent laugh, his throat clogging up with nervousness, “he is back home because he is still only a pup. He isn’t—actually a pup, he is just,” Minhyuk exhaled, “fourteen—fifteen soon, in fact, he is a winter harvest, strangely.” He takes a pause, mentally cursing himself. All the elders and leaders of the pack know every single wolf around, every new offspring, every new joiner, every passed away elderly. There are hundreds, if not a full thousand, of them, and Changkyun, the son of Elder Changsoon, is far from being one of the invisible ones around. 

“But my main enquiry is,” Minhyuk cleared his throat and continued, “can he please join the scouts with me?” He raised pleading eyes at the Commander. “I know he is not of age yet, but he is very strong, and I have no doubt we will be able to pull through the training together.” Realising how insistent he sounded, Minhyuk lowered his eyes again, fiddling with his fingers. “I wouldn’t feel comfortable without him here.”

And it was true. His soul never found peace since the doom of separation with his best friend spread all over his mind like a plague. 

Commander Siwon let a couple of seconds of quiet slip to make sure Minhyuk was done. “I understand your anguish, but unfortunately, you’re right, Minhyuk,” he pressed his lips in a sorry smile, “Changkyun is still a pup by the means of military, and we cannot put a young boy at risk.”

Minhyuk nodded, pressing his lips in a thin line. “But it doesn’t mean that you have to be separated,” the Commander continued, and the young wolf raised his eyes with a tiny glint of hope. “No one said you can’t recruit next year, along with Changkyun.” 

Minhyuk frowned, unfamiliar to the concept of late recruitment. “But—“

“There isn’t a rule that says you cannot join the scouts later in life. Yes, there is a rule that prevents scarcely grown pups from going into battle, but there isn’t a rule that limits the age exclusively to sixteen. You can join next year. Of course, you will be older than most new recruits, but you and your best friend will be together.”

Minhyuk processed the words carefully. He had already gone through enough training to understand how tough it was; enough to refuse to give up and only want to move forward. But without Changkyun by his side, his strength slowly faded away. 

“Isn’t this what you want, Minhyuk?” The Commander’s voice cut in again, and the boy timidly nodded. 

“I think I might need some time to think about it, Commander.” 

The older wolf acknowledged his words with a slight smile. “Of course. You have the whole of winter to make up your mind.”

With a sprout of new hope, Minhyuk exited the tent. 

 

With the first bloom of spring, Minhyuk came back home for a short break. Snow started to melt, squelching under every step he took, trees breathed anew, rivers sparkled with the timid white rays of sun. On the way to the village, Minhyuk crouched in front of small patch of frail snowdrops, droopy crystal flowers that still seemed to shake in the remaining cool of the breeze. Soon, daffodils would spread their gentle petals too. 

His mother greeted him on the steps of their little hut, embracing him tightly-tightly and brushing through his grown hair. He had gotten taller over the last few months, and so he stood on the ground to let his mother press his head to her chest and leave a tender kiss on his forehead. She offered supper, although didn’t extend her arm towards the entrance, as if knowing that Minhyuk couldn’t wait to run away somewhere they both knew. He smiled apologetically, but she only put a warm palm on his cheek and blinked understandingly. A thumb brushed under his eyes as if to wipe the yet unshed tears. Tears of excitement, Minhyuk liked to think.

He ran across the settlement like his man body wasn’t the weak link in his existence anymore. He ran fast, ruffling the dampen grass under his feet, and ran faster when little Hyejoo appeared on the horizon.

“Hyejoo!” Minhyuk shouted and barely managed to slow down before bending his knees and swiping the girl off her feet. She didn’t seem as heavy anymore, and now the ten-year-old princess could be carried in his arms like she was meant to be.

“Hyukkie!” She lightly hit his shoulders as he started spinning her around, which made her both giggle and squeak. He let her down when he heard more approaching footsteps. 

Changkyun’s mother had always been nice to him, appreciated him as her son’s best friend and as the only person who stood up for him with his whole body and soul, and she kissed him on the cheek as if Minhyuk was family too. With a pat on his shoulder, she turned him towards their encampment of palatial tents, and the moment his eyes fell on his timidly approaching best friend, something within Minhyuk’s ribcage froze.

He ran into Changkyun’s embrace with a bump, nearly tumbling the boy off his feet. The immediate laugh into his ear felt like home, like real home, and Minhyuk’s eyes began to sting with emotions he didn’t know how to name yet. 

Still holding onto Changkyun’s shoulders, he looked him up and down in utter disbelief. “How did you manage to grow in height?” He asked with high notes of surprise, making the other wolf smile almost shyly. 

“You just haven’t seen me in a while.” Changkyun put one hand over Minhyuk’s own on his shoulder, lightly-lightly clutching it. Something in the other boy’s face changed; maybe it was his nose that never stopped growing, or the slightly sunken cheeks, or the omnipresent frown of his thin lips. But the same melancholic glint he always carried in his eyes didn’t seem to disappear over the three months of their separation, and in that moment, more than anything, Minhyuk just wanted the sadness inside him to leave.

But there were so many things between them that needed to be said first. 

To the tune of Minhyuk’s cheerful blabbering about his pastime as a new scout, they strayed further away from the village into the forest and walked towards the small pond that calmly rested among the woods. The water was still dark, and the large grey rocks reeked of cold even before the boys could settle down on them. 

And this cold enveloped Changkyun into its comforting arms, stroking his shoulders and squeezing his hands as if saying that it was all right to be aloof towards someone, even if it was someone dear. Changkyun sat down and shrunk, curled his spine and embraced himself, soothing the trembles under his shirt. The spring was going to hit its full bloom in mere days, and the young wolf grew to appreciate winter for its solitude. 

“Changkyun,” Minhyuk called. He was folded into himself like the other boy, bent forward and arms wrapped around his legs. He was bigger, had always been taller and had warm palms that Changkyun loved holding onto to not get lost in the dark forest when they were children, but now he looked as small as a hungry timid elf. Changkyun had a great childhood – strange that wolves didn’t have the same endearing name for the careless stage of the pups’ growth. 

“Changkyun, I don’t think you’re a coward,” Minhyuk muttered, so quiet a passer-by would disregard the words on the rustle of new leaves. “I think I’m more of a coward than you’ll ever be.” His fingers mindlessly played with the hem of his pants. “I asked if I could stop the training and recruit next year,” he glanced up to find Changkyun’s eyes but in vain – the other wolf was unchangeably enchanted by the water, “with you.”

Changkyun only sighed. 

“I feel so… unworthy and sick when you’re not with me,” Minhyuk continued, searching for his words in the stomped grass under his feet. “When we’re separated, I feel doomed, just like you said I would be. I know I did well on surviving until this spring, but there are so many more springs to bloom, and I don’t know how many of those I can witness without you by my side.” Minhyuk chuckled under his breath, “I don’t know why I said that. You would be with me next year, wouldn’t you? I think I’m developing sickness to the pollen, makes me weak in my heart.” He laughed under his breath again, but even a smile could not conceal the despair he wanted to kill within him. His best friend was by his side now, he shouldn’t have been feeling so dismal. And yet, Changkyun’s unusually hollow eyes didn’t make the misery in his chest disappear.

“You’re selfish, Minhyuk,” the younger wolf murmured, but the low quiet in his deepened voice could never pass for a whisper of the wind anymore. Whenever Changkyun spoke, it felt like thunder was rambling in the very distance. After every word he uttered, a deafening silence came. “I told you I don’t want to join the scouts.” Before Minhyuk could open his mouth, Changkyun straightened and looked into his eyes, changing the direction of the wind around them. “But not because I’m weak and afraid. Minhyuk, I’m so much stronger than you think I am. I know, I’m still growing, but I’m not a little pup anymore.” He sighed, eyebrows frowned and mouth tightened. “I don’t want to join the scouts because,” he looked down at his hands, suddenly unable to keep Minhyuk’s hopeful gaze, suddenly afraid of looking into his softened gleaming eyes and not finding the same sentiment he felt. “Because I’m afraid of losing you.”

The precious thing about spring was the day that stayed around longer. Foggy blue was slowly mixing with gentle pink, and soon it would melt into flowery lilac and only then – into the sleepy darkness. Minhyuk loved the daylight, and Changkyun couldn’t wait for the night to come to then sooner. 

“There is a future, Minhyuk,” Changkyun continued. “Years from now, when we become scouts, when we run into the dangerous parts of the country, when we serve our pack like its rightful members, there is a future that stretches so far beyond that point. And I’m too frightened to think about the possibilities where you don’t reach it. Years from now, there is a future that’s meant for me, and as much as I know I’m still young and can’t possibly feel that way just yet, I can’t see that future without you.” Changkyun sighed again, dug his fingers into the stone he was sitting on. “Take my words as you like, I know you’ll throw them on the wind sooner or later, but don’t think I want to step down from the fight because I don’t care. It’s the opposite, Hyukkie,” and he had to swallow down a boulder that formed in his throat before he could mutter the last, “I care too much.”

Minhyuk didn’t find his voice immediately. He memorised every word uttered for the pond before them, and yet there was something that made him both burn and smoulder from the inside. “Throw your words on the wind. You think I don’t care,” he said quietly, darkening faster than the sky.

Changkyun smiled bitterly to himself. “You don’t.”

The older wolf straightened, and there was a tremble passing through his limbs. “How can you possibly think I don’t care when I’m ready to risk my life for–”

“Because you don’t!” Changkyun abruptly jumped on his feet. His hands clenched into fists by his sides, and in his eyes, there was the most tearful gleam Minhyuk had ever seen. “You never talk about anything but yourself, how noble you are for being ready to protect the pack, how brave you are willing to sacrifice your life for someone you supposedly care about, how–how great you are, how–I don’t even know anymore!” The boy raged, visibly shivering from anger that filled his veins at once. “I only wished for you to care about me a tiny-tiny bit, you could’ve just said at least something genuine, maybe actually listen to me!”

Minhyuk jerked on his feet with the rage of a starving animal. “Don’t you understand!” He shouted. “Don’t you bloody understand! That–” But something cut him off in his burning speech. Changkyun was never just a little pup young Minhyuk loved to run around with and act like the mighty strong brother. And seeing the other’s always sharp and apathetic eyes glow with _pain_ a boy like him should have never experienced, Minhyuk understood. Understood something he always knew but couldn’t ever put into words. His shoulders slumped and his fists relaxed, and it was like all the energy was sucked out of him with the passing clouds. “Don’t you understand that when I say I want to protect what’s important to me, I mean you.”

The tremble in Changkyun’s body stopped as soon as he let go too. The breeze took the unreleased shouts off his lips and carried them to the water, spreading them over the fluttering surface. “Then why did you ask me to join too?” He questioned quietly. 

“Because,” Minhyuk fiddled with his fingers and lowered his gaze to the ground, “as much as I want to protect you, I need you by my side.” Minhyuk had never admitted to weaknesses he had, always hid them, always offered something grand in exchange, never let the mask crack. “Maybe I need some protection too.” And you are the only one who could protect me, he wanted to add but couldn’t, and instead felt his bones slowly crumble under the pressure he never allowed himself to relieve. He took a tentative step forward, small and broken in Changkyun’s silence. “You’re right, I’m selfish. I just…” When he wanted to take a deep breath, he stumbled over an invisible claw gripping his throat from the inside, preventing air and words from coming in and out. “I see the future too and,” he tried to push it out of his lungs, the strange feelings he was secretly terrified of, but instead something clouded his eyes. “And you are,” Minhyuk looked up, and the returned depth and knowingness on the bottom of Changkyun’s pupils made the older boy crumble on the inside, “too…”

Before he could stop it, a tear slid down his cheek. Changkyun’s face transformed completely; his eyes widened and his brows curved upwards. He took the remaining step forward to catch a broken down Minhyuk into his arms. “Hyukkie,” he whispered, cupping the other’s cheeks and wiping away two lonely wet traces under his eyes. Changkyun’s palms were warm, small and so, so familiar, that as soon as Minhyuk brought his shaking fingers to the younger’s hands, any self-control evaporated. 

Tears burst forth like rain on a stormy day, spilling down his face. His chin trembled and his spine curved, bending him forward. It was hard to breathe, and all he could do was focus on the warmth on his cheeks and caring eyes in front of him. Part of him knew why he was crying, part of him didn’t, but when Changkyun stroked his hair and brought his face to his shoulder, it didn’t matter. He was just happy to let go. 

He wept into Changkyun’s neck, his back shuddering and fingers clutching the other’s shirt. Idle whispers brushed over his ear. “It will be all right, Hyukkie, I promise.” Then, Changkyun’s voice seemed like that of a child again, quiet and faithful and reassuring in the most innocent way. Minhyuk tried to catch his breath, but tears didn’t seem to have an end to them. The younger wolf raised his head, still comfortingly stroking his hair and brushing stray strands out of his reddened face. 

Changkyun gently kissed a new tear away. And another, and another. He dried wet traces under his eyes with his lips, kissed round bones of his sunken cheeks, collected the remaining tears hanging off his chin, carefully pressed kisses to his eyelids. When Minhyuk seemed to return the ability to breathe, Changkyun lead his face to his shoulder again, putting a hand on the back of his head and caressing him, calming him down. 

There was a lot of things he wanted to say. But they were still only a reckless pair of wolf pups in everyone’s eyes, and it meant that words had to wait.

When Minhyuk stopped crying, Changkyun nuzzled closer to the side of his face. “We will recruit next spring with the second batch, right after I turn sixteen.”

It was exactly what they did. 

 

Changkyun’s warm broad back had served as Minhyuk’s pillow for a few dark blissful hours. His hot tanned skin always smelled of burning sunlight and plowed soil and pepper and salt. Sometimes it was wood and other times it resembled cedar and rarely – soot and ash. Whatever it was, it always calmed Minhyuk down and lulled him to sleep, surrounded him in a bubble of familiarity and therefore – safety. He could wander off to dreamland while tightly nestled behind Changkyun with his head peacefully resting on the broad shoulder. 

Then the younger wolf jumped on his feet, and Minhyuk tumbled onto the thin pillow, hoarsely whining as he was brought back to his hut. 

“Wake up,” Changkyun called with a smile, standing strong and awake a few steps away from the bed.

Minhyuk grumbled into the pillow and buried his face into the linens. “No,” he croaked, frowning. 

“Yes,” the other wolf chuckled and crouched next to the bed, searching for Minhyuk’s sleep-clouded eyes. “Wake up, sleepyhead, you’ve had your rest.” His voice had grown richer and soother over the years, and to Minhyuk his quiet muttering had become as pleasant as the birds’ cheerful song in the morning. 

“A few more hours,” the older wolf slurred and rubbed his cheek on the pillow. Changkyun breathed out a silent giggle at the action and, strangely, didn’t pursue the other anymore. In the immediate air of stillness, Minhyuk could feel careful fingers threading through his hair on the side, tucking it behind his ear, brushing it out of his forehead. He blinked his eyes open and saw Changkyun fondly looking over his features, a tiny curl of a smile remaining on his lips. 

“It’s time to go,” he said softly and sighed, standing up. Minhyuk immediately felt the need to turn around and face the dark wooden wall. 

“Why are you in such a hurry?” He grumbled instead, plastering himself over the bed that was already a little too small for him.

“Preparation for the annual harvest ceremony, have you forgotten?” Changkyun asked with a note of amusement in his voice. Minhyuk whined. “Promised Mingyu and Seungcheol we’d go to the field together.” The younger reminded and bounced to the entrance door, his figure turning into a dark smudged silhouette in contrast to the white sunny glow outside.

Minhyuk groaned and covered his eyes with his palm. “Such a long way from here.” But he liked to consider himself a wolf of his word, and Changkyun knew it too. 

The younger smiled softly at him when Minhyuk wasn’t looking. “I will see you soon.” And with that, he disappeared into the sunlight.

Harvest season lasted days and days and days, and Minhyuk didn’t see any harm in lazing in his bed for another while. It was almost like he couldn’t help it – after nearly two years in the scouts, every hour of rest he got, he took, never knowing when he would be given another chance to nuzzle into someone’s warm side and melt in time.

But he forced himself out of bed and stumbled outside, found himself plunging into the blinding sunlight and melted not in time, but in heat that enveloped his body at once. 

Sunlight lead him through the forest to the field of tall yellow carnations, so bright and full of colour they glowed and gleamed, and the earth painted itself in golden too. Sunlight followed his every stumbling step to a group of boys whose golden skin glistened with sweat and yellow pollen. Sunlight brought him to Changkyun, who was sparkling and radiating the softest golden shine of carnations, who smelled of sunlit joyful flowers and looked like one too. Sunlight, sunlight, sunlight, sunlight beaming from the clouded yellow sky, sunlight feeding the blooming flowers and sunlight filling the powdered air with sweet scent of nectar, and yet all of it, all of the sunlight was gathered in the crescent of Changkyun’s smile. 

In the yellow mist and with yellow flowers in hands, he was shining brighter than the sun. His eyes glinted with molten amber and his teeth shimmered in the golden light, and Minhyuk couldn’t find it in himself to move when a pollen-covered hand reached for his face and tucked a little yellow flowers behind his ear. Sunlight, sunlight, sunlight, sunlight tumbled him back and sunlight waved at him as he was swallowed in the sticky bush of carnations, and to Minhyuk, every blink of yellow sounded like Changkyun’s ever so silent laughter. 

And when the younger wolf turned around, the sunlight dimmed with him. 

During the harvest season, Hyunwoo always sat on the porch of his hut and gave himself in to his contemplations, to his waiting, to his solitude. Minhyuk felt a sting of guilt as he hopped and trotted across the settlement, but the older wolf never made the feeling last. 

“What’s today’s harvest?” Minhyuk plopped onto the step and peeked into the familiar basket, hiking his eyebrows in approval when he found it filled to the brim with blood-red cherries.

“Hello, Minhyuk,” Hyunwoo smiled through the mush in his mouth. He continued upon swallowing, “Been to nurse the flowers already?”

“Of course, I carried a whole carriage worth of bouquets.” Minhyuk bragged and tossed a berry into his mouth.

“Without Changkyun today, I see?” Hyunwoo thoughtfully looked into the surrounding woods in the distance and seemed to get lost in his thoughts again.

“He’s still helping in the fields. I escaped to talk to you.” Minhyuk honestly confessed and hesitated, pulling a cherry stem through pursed lips. 

Hyunwoo nodded and pensively chewed on another berry. “What sorrows bring you to me in hour of need, my dear friend?”

Minhyuk sputtered a little laugh. “Don’t throw around such strong words, Hyunwoo, please.” The older wolf smiled too, eyes crinkling and cheeks puffing. He always succeeded at making Minhyuk feel at ease – it was almost his magical power. “There is something I’m… trying to understand,” he started and sighed, rolling dried cherry bones in his palms. He didn’t have the strength to look Hyunwoo in the eyes when he asked, “When you fell in love with Hoseok, how did it feel?”

The older man knew what it meant as soon as the question was lost to the warm air. He smiled gently and put the cherries in his hands back into the basket. Hyunwoo never lied, was truthful and stubborn in his speeches, but he looked at the greeneries in front and searched for the gentlest words. Minhyuk, although strong and brave and mirthful, had a soul as tender as a dandelion – blown away with the slightest breeze of sorrow. 

“It hadn’t been easy, falling in love with Hoseok,” Hyunwoo started, and before he could mask the ache his feelings inflicted, he lowered his head with a sigh, “still isn’t.” Minhyuk turned to look at him. “How many springs we survived, and I still count days before every next blooming season, afraid that any can become our last.” He huffed a little laugh under his breath. “It’s probably not what you came here to hear.” He straightened and beamed at Minhyuk. “In all honesty, I don’t know. Sometimes I look at the stars in the night sky and see the two of us up there, side by side, like we were always meant to be. It’s simple, I think, realising this feeling. When you look into his eyes and see the two of you standing at the end of the world even as everything around you is lost to flames, you know it.” Hyunwoo breathed out and curled his spine again, relaxing. “Is this how you feel about Changkyun?”

Minhyuk shied away, bit on the inside of his lip to contain a smile, shrugged his shoulders. It was in vain hoping for Hyunwoo to not understand who Minhyuk had been trying to court in how own subtle ways. “Maybe not as scary yet.” Then he looked under his feet on the stomped grass and thought of better words. “It’s almost like a little green sprout that pushed through the hard soil after the winter is over. Feeble at first, thin and shuddering in the wind, quietly singing for protection in the dead dark plain. And then it bloomed, became a little taller, grew tender leaves and rooted itself firmly into the ground. It kept growing, through ruthless winter and boiling summer, covered itself in wood and reached for the sun. Even when no one was watching, it nurtured itself, flourished, grew tall and strong, covered in thick bark and multiple branches. And now it didn’t ask for protection anymore, it became the protection. And soon, when the time is right, it will spread its roots and plague the entire plain and raise up a forest from the ground that was sworn dead.” Minhyuk breathed out and wrinkled his nose. “Not in the... weird sense of the word.” 

Hyunwoo blinked in understanding, encouraging the wolf boy to continue.

“I know it shouldn’t have appeared so early. But the feeling grew and grew, like that very tree, rooted itself so deeply in my heart I felt it squeeze every time I looked at him. And it kept getting bigger, and it still does. When the sun shines, I think of him, when the river trembles, I think of him, when the birds sing, I think of him. I am too afraid to put it into words, too afraid to let him hear it. It wasn’t supposed to happen before I turned eighteen, but here I am, and here he is, and we are stuck and tied in this web of feelings we cannot untangle, because it’s too early, and I’m already so afraid. I’m afraid of being left heartbroken if I lose him. Because I know that most of us only love once. He loves me, oh heavens, he loves me,” Minhyuk disregarded the veil of tears in his eyes and looked at Hyunwoo, “I know he does, but he is still a pup, and as selfish as it may seem, I pray with all my despair and hope that he is able to mark on someone else.” He sniffed, and suddenly, his voice deflated to a murmur. “And yet, deep inside, I know the love we share is like that of my parents, or like that of Hoseok’s and yours, or like that of Commander Siwon and his late lover.” He allowed himself to breathe and calm the ache in his chest. “I just really don’t want to be left heartbroken.”

The sun was still high above their heads.

“Loving one person forever may not necessarily be a bad thing.” Hyunwoo said in tune to Minhyuk’s silence. “Cutting down an entire forest takes more than one lumberjack and, perhaps, a very heavy axe.”

Minhyuk chuckled and looked up. The sun was still high above their heads, and yet he couldn’t wait for bleak grey winter sky to come in its place. 

“I’ll confess when he turns eighteen.”

 

The run up the hill felt like a blink of an eye. What followed the escapade from the highly important celebration was laughter and careless rolling in frozen grass. They grew almost imperceptive to the cold, and winters themselves started getting shorter. After the next full moon ice on the river would break. 

The steep rocky cliff was dangerous and eroded, pieces of rocks tumbled down occasionally and disappeared in the dark earth at the foot of their grand mountain, and yet the boys settled on the edge side by side and let their feet dangle from the deadly height, uncaring of the howl of the wind below and occasional growls of piles of snow collapsing from the unreachable summits in the distance. From this steep rocky cliff, the wild part of Summerfall was spread wide in front of their eyes, vast and scary and yet fitting on the flat of their palms. 

It was Changkyun’s birthday. They escaped before the day could cut short. 

“It’s devastatingly quiet in here,” Changkyun noted, staring into the distance with matured sharp eyes.

“Something to get used to,” Minhyuk chimed in. “Scouts rarely enjoy a conversation in the wilderness.”

Changkyun adopted a habit to smile from the inside, almost as if to avoid questions from those he preferred in leave in his sworn silence. “Some wolves hear the mate’s thoughts when the bond is tied.”

If he heard Minhyuk’s heart skip a beat, he didn’t react to it. Instead, Changkyun waited for the older to pick up the thought and nurture it into words he had been meaning to say. 

After minutes of silence, Changkyun sighed and shuffled on his feet. “Suppose it’s time to come back to the crowd now.”

Minhyuk nearly shivered in fear of the other leaving and jumped up almost faster than him. “Already? But we just got here.” A note of worry and despair in his voice didn’t fly past Changkyun’s ears.

“They might be wondering where we went.” Changkyun took a step back but halted when the older wolf caught up with him in a blink. He was close, scarily close, and he was still taller than Changkyun, faster, sharper. 

Minhyuk’s lips quivered in words he wanted to say, but his mouth felt frozen. The air was clear and the sky was white, and Changkyun’s eyes reflected the cold glow and settled on his lashes as he looked up at Minhyuk with dull hope, or maybe hopelessness. 

“Changkyun, I…” he swallowed and glanced down at the thin lips that curved sharply on the outline and softly-softly on the inside. “Changkyun, I want to talk to the Supreme,” Minhyuk blurted, and before the younger wolf’s mouth parted in question, he continued, “The granted permission. For the ritual.” Minhyuk nodded to his own words, and the corners of Changkyun’s lips barely curled in a hint of a smile, because the other talked traditions before feelings, and that always amused him. “I know.” Minhyuk said firmly, finally recognising the gentle sparkle of warmth in Changkyun’s eyes. “I know. And I do, too,” he breathed out and grimaced, cursing himself for not being able to say it. He looked down to the ground, wishing he was as dry and careless as the remains of grass under his feet.

But ever so warm fingers found their way to his hands, holding them carefully. Minhyuk exhaled, pushed the boulders in his throat to his stomach and leaned forward abruptly and sharply, pressing right against the younger wolf and bumping their mouths together. He freed his hands from the slack grip and cupped Changkyun’s cheeks, pulling him closer, higher. 

They inhaled together, and Minhyuk kissed him, properly, tenderly and yet tightly, like he had spent centuries waiting, like he was afraid of letting go, like he was screaming at the stars that if one day should they join their rows, they were doing it together. 

Warm fingers snaked over his again, caressing the knuckles and as if telling him that he was not going to dissipate into fog any time soon. Changkyun kissed back as if he were the Moon to the endless water when they meet at the end of the night. 

Minhyuk let go and tried to calm his thrashing heart when he saw Changkyun slowly opening his eyes with a tiny smile. “When do you want to…” He panted, like he just ran across the vast-vast plain between the Kingdoms. He finally learned what nervousness felt like. “When do you want to do the… the ritual? First week of spring?”

Changkyun breathed out with an almost shy smile and wondered how stars managed to align in a way that lead them to this day. “Can’t go sooner?”

“Heavens, I mean, we don’t want to freeze, do we?” Minhyuk was still panting, and Changkyun was trying to contain a snort. 

“Then spring, I wouldn’t mind either.” 

Minhyuk smiled widely and kissed him again. 

The kiss carried into the third day of spring, into the quiet secluded meadow, into the warm indigo night. When the chanting was done, and the paint washed off, and the bonfire ceased, Minhyuk put careful palms on Changkyun’s shoulders and laid his petal lips on his. The burning incense filled the air with enchanting smell, and according to the old legend – linked the lovers’ souls so that at the end of every journey, they could always find each other side my side. 

In the open tent, the silver moonlight melted into the orange glow of torches, and under Minhyuk’s touch Changkyun was warm and tangible, like fire, and yet mystical, like the Moon in the night sky, unexplored, captivating, distant. Minhyuk left soft hesitant kisses on the other’s cheeks, jaw, neck, laid him down on the puffy pillows, took him in from above. 

He knew it was not what other wolves did, understood that night wasn’t eternal, and soon the sun would rise again, and the magic would evaporate like tiny drops of dew on breathing plants. But Changkyun had always been unusual, unlike anyone Minhyuk had ever known, and he couldn’t hold back the tender caresses over his arms and stomach, kisses over his chest, silent breaths of confession into his mouth. 

Couldn’t hold back the affection, so human and simple and beautiful. 

And Changkyun, he followed Minhyuk’s every shaky movement, searched for his eyes, stroked over his fingers, brushed long hair out of his face and always hovered over his shoulders, sliding down his arms as lightly as the morning breeze. To every trembling exhale, there was a calming caress, speaking to him like the rustle of leaves and flutter of a butterfly's wings. Changkyun trusted him. 

Minhyuk breathed in and rid them of their breeches, tried not to shy away when Changkyun opened up and let him get closer. He was so much braver than the older wolf, and Minhyuk could only rely on the familiar sharp curve of observing eyes and gentle blush on the apples of his cheeks and calmly rising chest. He breathed loud, but he was tranquil, and Minhyuk turned the cork in the bottle of oil and pulled it open. 

It was floral and sweet and dribbled down Minhyuk’s fingers onto Changkyun’s stomach. The older panted, afraid to look anywhere else but Changkyun’s face. He couldn’t recall the moment when the younger wolf became something untouchable for him, almost sacred, something that should be treasured and never hurt. He had seen him suffer, seen him cry out in pain and exhaustion and despair, and he was still so young and didn’t deserve to suffer for decision Minhyuk made for both of them. Could he still commit more mistakes, even if the holy permission was granted to him by their people and heaven he always deemed empty? Could he bear to once again see Changkyun howl for the Moon not in pleasure, but in agony?

But thin fingers with slightly grown nails wrapped around his wrist and encouragingly scratched his skin, and Changkyun lead him down, made Minhyuk touch him with the tips of his fingers, opened up with all his body and soul. He breathed louder, letting shivers of strange pleasure run through his limbs, and Minhyuk’s touch grew firmer. A delicate hum escaped his slightly parted mouth. 

Changkyun bit his lip, shy about ruining the everlasting silence of the woods. Worry painted Minhyuk’s face with a curve of his brows and furious blush and tight lips, but his eyes couldn’t resist a glint of timid excitement and something urgent and new – tingling want to hear it one more time. 

Minhyuk worked his hand, got braver when Changkyun’s eyelids fluttered, looked down and stroked from the wolf’s knee along his thigh and froze in the middle, where it was hidden and intimate and could make Changkyun stop the dulcet hums he breathed out through sealed lips. 

But Changkyun let him in, gripped his wrist and let him in, tenses his thighs and let him in, closed his eyes and let him in. Minhyuk couldn’t say a word, only focused on every little twitch of eyebrows and lips on Changkyun’s face, tried to make him feel comfortable, wanted to make him feel like all the light and music and colours of the world was all for him. 

And when the younger sniffed, slipping a shaky exhale, Minhyuk nodded and whispered to himself, braved and felt Changkyun’s pleasure from the way he sounded, from the way he looked, from his temperature and his uncontrolled movements. It was then when Minhyuk let himself in; it was then when he felt Changkyun’s pleasure through his own body. 

He immediately bent closer to the other boy, capturing him between his arms. “Are you?..” He attempted to ask but was at a loss of words, suddenly feeling and seeing too much. 

Changkyun opened his eyes, hazy, sensual, and so, so beautiful. Sweat gathered on his forehead and neck, and Minhyuk gave in to warmth that flooded him and moved. Changkyun shivered and exhaled as if he was finally rescued from drowning in the raging water. 

“Yes,” he whispered and let his head fall back again. 

“Good?” Minhyuk needed to be confident, burned from the inside with growing desire and still fretted, but Changkyun couldn’t allow any more worries escape the older wolf’s mouth. He nodded in short jerks and raised himself up on his elbows, urgently capturing Minhyuk’s lips. 

The kiss dissipated any clouds of remaining fear, and as Changkyun dug his fingers into the other’s shoulders and pressed them close-close-close, Minhyuk breathed out a harsh moan and let himself melt into the feel. 

Movements were sweet, warm, gentle, like the boughs of willow tree that caress the rippling water, and yet trembling exhales and idle words of comfort and praise filled the nocturnal silence. Changkyun’s airy moans flowed like music into the night, and Minhyuk buried his own voice in the other’s damp skin, leaving blooming roses on his neck and shoulders. Sharp nails drew scarlet stream down his back as the sweet movements grew quicker, and it was as if the scouts finally understood what it meant to suffocate in a chase. 

Except Minhyuk was the prey, and it was pleasure that torn his flesh apart, pleasure that made him release a hitched sob into Changkyun’s collarbone and break down, bleed his affection into urgent touches and finally let his soul fly free. He lost control of his limbs to the pulsing right where was connected to Changkyun at the hip. 

They reached it together, as if they were blood-vowed. Changkyun contain a shuddering cry in his throat as he tensed almost painfully, and then the relief came. A warm tear slid down Minhyuk’s cheek, and then all that was left to the moonlit stillness was a unison of weary breaths. 

But their pair was of an unusual kind, and the ritual was done only after the equality was established on those silent intimate terms. 

When Minhyuk lay on his back and made space for Changkyun to shadow over him, the enticing magic began again. The younger kissed the parted petal lips, lingered on the sunken cheeks, traveled down the ridged throat column and along protruding collarbones. Minhyuk breathed and tried to still his trembling, but Changkyun kissed down his stomach and his hips and his thighs, and there was no justice in his gifting tenderness. 

Minhyuk wrongly deemed it a return for everything harmful that he had done, a payback, a way of revenge, he wanted it to be revenge, and yet Changkyun took his time and touched him like he was a cloud in the sky, fragile. He glowed like a nymph in the light of fire and the Moon. Changkyun let himself in, showed him that what they shared was mutual pleasure between those who were vowed lovers. Minhyuk believed. And let Changkyun in. 

And although the dark fabric of the tent was guarding him from the eyes of the sky, he swore he saw the stars when throbbing pleasure washed over him again, and as thankful tears burst from his eyes, he couldn’t hold back the quiet confessions falling off his lips like frail rose petals. Changkyun collected every single one. 

Ancient totems in the corner and the Moon were the sole witnesses to the sacred bond, the bond that lighted up two neighbouring stars in the sky for their yet wandering souls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> about the ages: min and kyun are 15 and 14 respectively in the first scenes and are 19 and 18 in the last scene 
> 
> if i suddenly seemed poetic out of place i was probably listening to hozier while writing yeet 
> 
> just a small psa, it's so called middle ages in here so this equality thing is super un-modern but we'll have a look at it later lads. dont forget to stay safe pleas
> 
> i hope you enjoyed! i dont like being that person but if you did please maybe say smth about it bc its my daily food and helps me not to spend ages on chapters. the next one resumes the main timeline of the story!

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on twt @chaeleggiewon!!


End file.
